For a Moment's Peace
by frankannestein
Summary: Sequel to "A Song for the Past" / When Daina accepted Basch's offer of marriage, she thought all of her dreams had come true. Who knew giving up the past could be so hard?
1. The Trodden Past

**FFXII and FFXII Revenant Wings in their entirety © Square Enix**

* * *

She was a judge magister's wife.

Pretty and pampered, she spent her days in idleness. She existed to curtsey to nobility, to smile at royalty, to make small talk with the people with whom her husband worked. She managed a household of servants, hosted dinner parties, and pretended to understand nothing of the concerns of men and government.

A woman with a voice like hers belonged in the highest terraces of Archades, her songs the entertainment of the privileged few. She was protected from the ugliness of life on the ground by everyone around her. They treated her like a precious object, a plundered treasure on display: A surviving Nabradian, and a beauty the likes of which was rarely seen, long of leg and sweet of smile, with hair the color of a lily and eyes the green of new leaves. Judge Magister Gabranth had chosen his wife well. She accepted their compliments with outward graciousness, slipping into the role of a lady her mother had wanted for her so long ago. This life was suitable for Sir Bertrand Praeities's only daughter.

But she was sick inside by the knowledge that none of these people knew who she was, that other life she'd led, or would understand if she told them.

Once, she had been a lady knight, Captain of the New Order of Knights of Dalmasca.

Not so long ago, she had met a would-be god in battle with her six friends at her side, and they had won the freedom of all Dalmasca.

With the help of Dalmasca's new queen and Archadia's new emperor, she had placed an imposter in Gabranth's black armor, to pursue the peace that Ivalice so desperately needed.

In the name of this peace, she had given up everything for the love of the man she had married. Her country. Her identity. And her sword.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Greetings and salutations, Dear Readers! It's been, what, six months since the end of "A Song for the Past"? Something like that. When I finished the story, I had a good idea of what awaited my OC past the end of the game; you see the results here, in this brief overview. I have finally decided to move forward with a sequel, as yet untitled, and I do hope that you, established and new readers, might stick around and let me know what you think. I don't believe it will be necessary to read the first book of this two-part series, but if you do go back and read ASftP, I would LOVE to hear your thoughts there, as well._

_A small warning: I do not own a DS, so I have not played "Revenant Wings." Everything I put in as fact in ASftP is fact I believed in, having only played the original game. I will stick by those facts. I debated long and hard on whether to include "Revenant Wings" in this story. Frankly, I was afraid of messing things up royally. I'm still a little afraid, but I'm looking forward to this challenge. If at any time I put details in THIS story that aren't right concerning the game sequel, please don't hesitate to tell me and help me fix them!_

_To those of you who know me, I don't think I'll be updating daily this time around, but I will still try to keep the updates coming at a good pace nonetheless. Chapter one is finished, and much longer than usual (between that and the prologue, we should have two good chapters' worth, lol)._

_And now, on this 309-word prologue, I already have some friends to thank._

_First, to _**_Black Claided Cat _**_and _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne_**_, for expressing more than a passing interest in a sequel._

_Again to _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne_**_, for putting me in the way of a very good "Revenant Wings" game script._

_To _**_Darwin_**_, for being the author of the __Amazingly Helpful Judge Magister Job Description__. You are made of awesome with sprinkles of win, chica!_

_All my love,_

_Anne_


	2. The Things We Do

Daina woke to an Archadian summer night, alone. Basch was not yet home.

She touched the sheets on his side of the bed. They were cool, undisturbed, and she sighed. The wargod's band on her finger glinted in the moonlight; her fist clenched, she turned her head away, and she swung her feet to the floor. Her white nightdress swirled around her ankles, sumptuous and silken.

She padded barefoot through the blue-hued shadows of her bedroom. The lights from the glossair rings of taxicabs were also blue, streaking through the curtained windows. Archades never truly slept. Lately, neither did Daina. She couldn't understand it. She went to bed exhausted every night, but spent the majority of the dark hours restlessly tossing and turning.

As she did so often during these insomniac nights, she removed a small, moldering book from one of her vanity's drawers and took it with her to the living room. There, she blew on a fire stone to light it, and put it in a small, glass-housed lamp.

Their apartments above the Grand Arcade were quiet. In the year she and Basch had been separated following the sinking of _Bahamut_, he had taken over Noah's home and slowly, agonizingly, made it his own. Traces of Noah still remained, such as the fact that Daina could no longer call Basch by his real name. She had not even taken the name _Ronsenburg_ upon their union, preferring to stick with her father's name. In public, in front of the servants, he was her Lord Gabranth.

But when they were alone . . .

One of his shirts lay over the back of a chaise longue, somehow missed by the servants, and Daina picked it up, breathing in his scent. She settled in the chaise, tucking her feet beneath the nightgown, the large shirt bunched in her lap, the disintegrating book in her hands.

She hated the lies. She hated watching Basch struggle to use his brother's identity to make a difference in Archadia. He was well suited for his new role, equipped with the military know-how and sharp intelligence required by the courts, but she feared that one day she would lose him to Noah's ghost.

She glanced around the living room, what little she could discern in the single lamp's orange glow. These apartments were hers, also. Most of what Daina owned were gifts from her new circle in the Empire's capital city. Basch had brought her here, a blushing bride, with one small trunk of things she had saved from their long battles to restore Dalmasca, including her katana and her uniform.

Daina looked up at the far wall. The yakei hung from its pegs, the green tassel still depended from the hilt. Below it, the heavier, curved mythril blade that had once marked Basch as a Knight of the Order hung. They were ornaments now. Just as she was.

Angrily, she reached up to dash a few tears from her cheek. She cried a lot these days, slowly going mad from the inertia of decadence. Later that week, she and a group of lesser judges and their wives were scheduled to attend the theatre. Her job was to sit in the best box, surrounded by nobility, to graciously greet those who would rise to her level while distinguishing those in her own party. Her handmaid, Sera, kept a purse of extra chops for ardent streetears, so that they would not bother Lady Praeities on her way into and out of the theatre.

She played her part well. No one she knew, save her husband and his young charge, had a clue of what she was capable.

She sighed. It was unreasonable, but she felt as if she had abandoned something precious when she left Queen Ashe's service – her entire past. Once a knight, always a knight. She wondered now if that was true.

Gingerly, she opened the journal. It was not hers, but had belonged to some faceless man who had called Nabradia home. Although she knew them by heart, she read over the entries that told of the fall of Nabudis. _This_ was why she and Basch were here. To prevent a holocaust like this from ever happening again.

She could not regret the reason, but she longed for the simplicity of meeting her enemies face-on, sword in hand. As the unknown writer had done.

A soft click and the brush of dislodged air announced the front door opening. Relief flooded through Daina like a hi-potion, almost painful in its intensity. She set the journal aside and went to meet her husband. He was already pulling his helm off. The door whooshed shut behind him.

"Welcome home," she said softly.

He came toward her swiftly. "Lady. It is late. Why are you not asleep?"

She shrugged and parried with her own question. "How did it go?"

"Zargabaath has agreed to split this quarter's funding between the training of new troops and the outfit of the _Leviathan_," he answered, his rough voice more tired than usual. "However, he is resisting my petition to terminate the proceedings of the Nalbina dungeon. He believes last month's incident to be isolated, not a cause for concern. The case of the Nalbina Town riots has run through the Ministry of Law. The final trial is scheduled for tomorrow morning. That, he says, should be the end of it."

"It is a big step. Nalbina is too strategic, the dungeon too convenient," she said, helping him out of his armor. She knew full well the reason Basch wanted to close down Nalbina as a fortress, having been a guest there herself. "His Excellency is of your mind. Eventually, Zargabaath will listen to reason. Which of you shall preside at the trial?"

"I will." Basch sighed, scrubbing a hand through his close-shorn hair. "It will be short – there is not much else to learn. All of the defendants are wholly convinced that they have done right."

"It was right for soldiers of the Empire to set fire to the bazaar and torture innocent civilians in the dungeons?" Daina spluttered. "Five people died down there, one of them a boy of seventeen! It took two weeks to break through the barbican and reclaim the Aerodrome."

"Aye. It is a terrible thing when soldiers lose their way," Basch murmured. "They are not the only ones who have been unable to accept defeat at Rabanastre. It will take Lord Larsa time to mend what Vayne destroyed."

"Of course, you're right," Daina said, instantly contrite. She put her hand to his face, wishing she could smooth the worry lines away. They had known the boy who died, Jovy, a timid, blue-skinned seeq from Rabanastre who had hero-worshipped Vaan and Vaan's late brother, Reks. Daina had written to Penelo upon first hearing of the tragedy, but as yet had not received a response from her friend. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be making things worse for you."

"You aren't." He took her hand and kissed it, and then gathered up the pieces of his armor. "Do you have plans for tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "I will be going out with Lady Cassady and the others at the end of the week, but there is nothing tomorrow."

"His Excellency has invited us to lunch with him, if you would like to go."

Daina lit up at that. "I will be ready." Anything to get out of the apartment, and not have to put on a show.

Basch seemed to see some of what she was thinking, for his eyebrows lowered, and she hastily changed the subject. "Would you like anything? Something to eat?"

"No, thank you. I will take a shower, and be with you shortly." He kissed her upturned lips fleetingly. "You should try to get some sleep."

"I will." _But not yet_.

Daina was waiting for him when he stepped out of the washroom, a damp towel around his shoulders, dressed in his pajama trousers and the silver phoenix pendant that he never removed. She stood quietly in a shaft of blue moonlight. At first, he did not seem to notice her as he dried his hair, but by degrees, his attention shifted to her. She held in a smile as his eyes traced the curves of breast and hip, easily visible under the clinging nightgown. Some things about her new life were good, such as Sera, her handmaiden, who helped her dress and did her hair. Basch obviously appreciated his lady, maybe more than the lady knight.

When he tossed the towel away, Daina went to him. Every time he touched her, she trembled with the deliciousness of it. He kissed her, his hands running over the silken gown, and she pushed him playfully toward their bed. Gently, he pulled her down with him. She slid atop him, thrilling to the feel of his hands and his lips on her bare skin, moving with him, lost to a rhythm that was theirs alone.

After, she held still for a moment, savoring the weight of his arms around her, the warmth of his breath on her shoulder, and the quiet of the night.

She kissed his temple, just above his scar. She loved him so much.

"Lady. You will always be dear to me," he said in his low, rough voice. He sat up, for they'd started to slide off the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear, cradling her in his lap. "If there is something you wish to do, then do it. Do not hide yourself away here on my account. My only desire is to see you happy."

Daina kissed his mouth that time, long and sweet, happiness and sadness of equal measure warring within her. He knew her too well, and she should have known that she couldn't deceive him. She could no more imagine living without Basch than she could without air to breathe.

Everywhere she looked, she saw the bars of her gilded birdcage, gleaming and locked tight. She could not risk a flight outside of it. She would not allow herself to be the cause of their disgrace here in this ravenous city.

For she was a judge magister's wife.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Here we are, jumping into the angst._

_Ah, angst. Hee._

_. . . I totally can't remember if there was anything I wanted to say here . . . Ah, the distractions of a group of friends and a Panera Bread! So I shall move straight on to my appreciation of all of you. :)_

_Reviewer Thanks! _**_Darwin _**_(Madness, indeed! Thank you, chica!), _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(Hee, you and me both *purrs*), _**_Apollo06 _**_(thank you!), and _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(I'm glad to see you as a full-time member!)._

_You guys are wonderful. But you already know that, right? Cookies for all! And, as always, my love,_

_Anne_

_P.S. Apparently I am now a Virgo. LIES, I say. LIES!_


	3. Easier Said than Done

No sooner had Daina resolved on behaving than she lost her temper and made an absolute fool of herself.

"A message from the judge magister, My Lady," her handmaid said.

Daina, who had migrated to the balcony with a novel not long after breakfast, turned to her. "Thank you, Sera."

It was a beautiful, glittering day. At this height the wind was strong, and her white-blonde hair blew first one way, and then another. Much to Sera's chagrin, Daina preferred to wear it loose down her back except for special occasions. The resulting tangles often took half an hour and copious amounts of cactus fruit application to undo.

Far below the balcony, an endless stream of cabs and personal hovercars flitted through the airborne avenues. If Daina watched them long enough, their flow began to resemble a river. A pebbly river of brown, copper, and gray, confined within red brick banks, sunlight glinting off glass windows that gleamed like water. It was calming.

Sera handed over the missive, and Daina shook it open. Three lines of Basch's familiar writing informed her that the trial was running long, and asked her to meet him near the 5th Judicial Building so they would not be late for lunch.

"Are you going out earlier than expected, My Lady?" Sera asked in a resigned sort of way, but she smiled when Daina did.

"Let's get to work," Daina said.

* * *

Daina had learned it was best to hold as still as possible while Sera put her hair up and chose her jewelry. In the beginning, Sera had exclaimed in delight over Daina's tiny waist and the lean muscles in her arms, which actually helped the decorative armbands to stay in place.

On the way out the door, Daina surreptitiously flexed her biceps and sighed. Even a few months of inaction had leached some of her strength from her. In time, she would resemble the other noblewomen – soft, plump, and undefined, like the teacakes of which they were so fond.

The two women settled into a cab that flew them through Central, circling around the epicenter that was the palace, and set them down at the entrance to the courtyard of the 5th Judicial Building. The cabbie rushed to hand Daina onto the pavement, doffing his cap with a bow. Amused, she gestured for Sera to tip him.

There was some sort of drill going on in the walled-in courtyard. Young recruits, one or at most two years removed from Daina's nineteen, stood in uniform ranks, responding to the barked orders of a pair of instructors at the front. Daina slowed, watching them but not really seeing them.

_"Continue!" she commanded, her voice echoing across the training hall. Immediately, the ranks of Dalmascan boys and girls resumed their practice, going through the seven forms of swordsmanship. One day, these children would become the new Knights of Dalmasca._

_Daina paced around the perimeter of the hall. Her soft brown boots buckled around her ankles, and her footfalls were silent on the marble flooring. When Ashe laid the original Order of Knights to rest, Daina chose a new uniform. She wore a brown miniskirt beneath a red vest, which left her arms and legs bare but covered her midriff. The yakei and the iga blade were belted around her hips and hung low behind her, tapping against the backs of her thighs as she walked, and the green tassel dangled from the yakei's pommel._

The armored recruits broke into pairs to practice their footwork. Clashes and yells quickly filled the walled-in space. She blinked, returning from the gold and mahogany hall in her memory to the red brick courtyard of the present. It was the weight of her skirts pulling at her hips, not her weapons. For whatever reason, she'd reached for the yakei's hilt, but found nothing except the filmy blue material of her dress.

"Who is that fine specimen?" someone murmured close behind her.

"Ah, Wes, you'd best leave that one alone. She's Judge Magister Gabranth's wife."

"_Gabranth_? How did a cold fish such as he land such a morsel?"

"Did you not hear me?" the other hissed. "_A_ _judge magister's_ wife. Any woman with the brass to marry a judge magister is –"

"Ahhh, I'd not thought of that," Wes breathed, cutting across his friend. "I'll bet she's a coeurl between the sheets."

The other loudly shushed him, but Daina had looked coolly over her shoulder. Although one of the sweat-faced boys snapped to attention, the other brazenly gave her what he clearly thought was a charming smile. Their visors were up, their swords in their scabbards. They seemed to be taking advantage of the confusion of the rest of their clumsily-battling comrades to take an undeserved break. Captain Praeities would never have allowed this.

She smiled back, unperturbed by the boy's comments – she'd heard worse in the Resistance camp. But still . . . A bedroom plaything, was she? It was none of his business. To punish his insolence, she would see how well he thought with his _other_ sword.

"Are you lost? Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, unconvincingly solicitous.

"I don't think you really have the time for making small talk," she said sweetly, as if she meant the exact opposite. She stepped closer.

At the sound of her Nabradian accent, Wes's smile grew. "I have all the time in the world for you, beautiful."

"Don't," his friend said in a strangled voice. "We're going to be in so much trouble. Her husband –"

"Isn't here," Daina finished for him with an indifferent shrug of her shoulders.

She heard a gasp. Off to the side, she could see Sera going through her own paroxysms of dismay, because Sera didn't dare interfere with her lady's whims. Daina, remembering that demeaning night in Rabanastre following King Raminas's death and how Ashe had treated her, felt a twinge of conscience and tried to telegraph to Sera with her eyes that everything was all right. It didn't work, however, and Wes stepped between the two women, his eyes on Daina's cleavage.

"That's right, he isn't here." He licked his lower lip. "What's your name?"

"My name?" she asked, circling him. He moved with her. "I'll tell you only if you can defeat me."

With that, she lunged toward his friend and drew the boy's sword. Both were too stunned to stop her and stood there, mouths agape, as she hitched her skirts over her left arm and leveled the blade at Wes with the right. She must have looked ridiculous, her legs bared, her feet encased in dainty, heeled sandals, without a scrap of armor on her person, but the sword didn't waver. Oh, the grip felt good to her palm! Her mouth curved in a wicked smile.

"Whenever you are ready to taste the ground," she invited.

By then, she'd garnered the attention of the nearest combatants. Their stillness rippled through the ranks, until nearly every man in the courtyard was transfixed at the sight of her.

"My Lady! What are you doing?" Sera moaned.

"Better watch out, Wes!" someone called, and then guffawed. "That girl's going to kick your –"

"You think you're a match for a man?" the boy named Wes snarled, going as red as the bricks under his feet. "I'll show you otherwise, tart!"

He charged at her, armor clanking. Easily, she parried his blade, and then struck him a blow on the helm with the flat of her sword, sending a loud clang through the silent courtyard. Wes stumbled, holding his head. He shook it as if to clear it. Laughter boomed out of the watching crowd.

"You're leading with the wrong foot," she said softly. "Keep your weight in the back, so that when you are ready to strike, the force of your whole body will assist you."

"You talk as though you think a girl has anything of import to say," he snapped, and charged her again.

Fluidly, she stepped back. Cheers erupted from the watching soldiers. She allowed his blade to pass within inches before she brought her sword's pommel smartly down on his wrist, where the plates of his gauntlet separated to show black leather beneath. He dropped his sword with a gasp, convulsively clutching his wrist to his chest.

"Do not fear your blade," she said, still soft, so that no one but he could hear her. "It must respond to your thoughts, which give it purpose. It must yield like the air, and it must bite like lightning. It must be changeable to your needs, or else it leaves you too soon, such as now. Be decisive at all costs, and you will win."

Wes, panting, glared at her. "It's time someone taught you a woman's mouth is only good for one thing."

_What_? That was going too far! As if someone had cast a berserk spell on her, instant rage boiled to the surface, borne not only of his crudity but of the claustrophobia she'd suffered since renouncing her Dalmascan title and rank. "Say that again, boy!" she snarled. Dropping her skirts, she grasped the sword's hilt in both hands and –

"Your Honor!"

Aghast, Daina whirled at the cry. The trial must have ended, for jury and judges were spilling down the 5th Judicial Building's steps. Everyone was talking at once, and she didn't hear Wes pick up his sword. Its blade sliced into her upper arm like a superheated wire, scraping against her mystletainn armband. Taken completely by surprise, she staggered, tripping over her skirts. Before she could defend herself, however, Wes's sword went spinning away, ringing like a badly-cast bell, and he swallowed, wide-eyed, over the edge of Basch's curved black blade, which was pressing into his adam's apple. The skin broke, weeping scarlet.

"When you bare steel against another," Basch said, his voice muffled and metallic through his helm, "you are announcing your intention to give no quarter, and to receive none."

He sounded exactly like Noah would have, frigid and murderous. He stood there, black armor gleaming in the sunlight, cloak fluttering, until the strength left Wes's legs and the boy clattered to the ground, eyes popping. He mouthed soundlessly, looking rather like an iguion gulping flies.

One of the instructors approached. "Your Honor, I will deal with the boys from here."

"As you wish, Commander." Basch withdrew his sword. They saluted each other.

"Quite a woman you've got there," the instructor offered.

"Aye," Basch said quietly. "I know."

Horribly aware of the spectacle she had just made of herself, Daina returned the other boy's sword to him without a word, and then she followed her lord out of the courtyard, Sera scurrying at her heels. Nobody spoke until they were ushered into one of Larsa's private parlors.

"Are you all right, My Lady?" Sera asked, but she wouldn't meet Daina's eyes.

Basch removed his helm. "I wonder if you would be so kind as to alert Lord Chamberlain to our arrival," he suggested gently.

"Yes, Your Honor." Sera, whose awe of him bordered on fright, didn't look at him, either. She curtseyed, and then left the room.

Daina plopped into a waiting chair, burying her face in her hands. She'd never felt this idiotic in her life. What in Ivalice had gotten into her?

"Lady, I would hear your voice."

Daina tried to answer, but it came out an impatient snort.

"That wasn't quite what I had in mind," he said, but then, to her amazement, he chuckled. "You gave a lesson that won't soon be forgotten, Lady Praeities. That boy didn't know what hit him. I think from today, people might well wonder how I deal with you, and not the other way around."

That time, she managed a giggle, and then they were both laughing. Basch didn't laugh often, but when he did, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds, warm and golden. He knelt before her, his fierce amber eyes studying her face.

"That was so childish of me. I truly don't know why I behaved so," she said ruefully, resting her forehead against his. "I'm so sorry."

"Do not fret."

"You aren't angry?"

"No."

She breathed a shaky laugh. "Here we are, two cuckoos in the Imperial nest."

"I was under the impression that you are my two most valuable advisors," Emperor Larsa said from the doorway, flashing his precocious smile. "Please, join me."

* * *

**_A/N_**_: All right, I probably had a lot more fun with this than I should have. Us women can be insane. It's a sad fact. XD_

_Reviewer thanks! _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(hey, you - with your review reply, I wasn't sure if you would like me to keep reading your story or to wait until you have uploaded the new version . . . And you are quite right. What we need is a good ADVENTURE! We'll get there . . . eventually . . . hee!), _**_Darwin _**_(thank you so much, my friend! Hope today goes well. ;) ), _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(heehee, then Libras must think alike!), _**_Quiddities _**_(Okay, seriously, if you're writing I want to read it. Please? Is this fic you're plotting old/new fanfic or something original? I can't fathom why anybody would like my own writing so much - we're our own worst critics? - but I honestly salaam to you for yours. I didn't say this in my last review and I should have, but Al-Cid can turn on a broken light bulb, so his antics during the masquerade were spot on. I can only wish I had that sort of wit and humor. I think I'll have to stick to the angst. LOL Anyway!), _**_Apollo06 _**_(I think I shall show Daina with the other judge's wives . . . I agree, that could be interesting! Oh, to answer your question, in my mind they've already left), and _**_anonymoush _**_(Thank you so much for taking the time to read ASftP!). To all of you, my eternal love and gratitude. Thanks for reviewing!_

_P.S. Wow. I was totally chatty today, huh? Well, I think it's because I'm not doing daily updates. So, to balance that out, my chapters in this fic are shaping up to be twice as long. I hope that's all right!_

_Cheers,_

_Anne_


	4. A Dark Rumor

"My Lady, you're bleeding!"

Everyone froze at Sera's outburst, Daina in the process of sitting in her chair at the table. Both men looked at her, Basch's face impassive, Larsa with one elegant black eyebrow raised. The expression on his changing face, the childish upturn of his nose blending smoothly with the cheeks no longer rounded with babyhood, betrayed his curiosity. She inspected her arm – Sera didn't have it quite right. The cut wasn't bleeding, but the dull red crust around her armband didn't exactly enhance its aesthetic value. She sighed.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, scooting her chair back.

The merest of glances passed between judge and emperor, full of meaning. Larsa appeared to be struggling with another grin. They remained standing until she had passed out of the room. She knew that as soon as the door shut, Larsa would hear the whole of her unknightly behavior.

"Oh, how dare he!" Sera seethed, flapping her hands distractedly as she shooed Daina into a powder room. At first, Daina thought she was referring to Larsa, but she continued, "How dare that churl raise a sword against Lady Praeities! But, My Lady, not a sound you have made. Does it not hurt?"

"Yes, I suppose it does," Daina said, allowing Sera to steer her to a stool.

Sera stopped as if immobilized. Like Larsa, she had midnight hair and alabaster skin. She was even shorter than Penelo, barely a girl of sixteen. Just then, her blue eyes were large and disbelieving. "You suppose?" she repeated faintly.

"Sera," Daina said with a sad smile, feeling the time had finally come for some truth, "my _mother_ was Lady Praeities. My father was a Knight of House Nabradia." She opened her hand, revealing the faded remains of hard yellow calluses across her palm and fingers. Sera, who insisted her lady's nails be lacquered, knew they were there, but had never asked from where they came; she merely applied unguents with affected blindness. "It was he who taught me the way of the sword. I was in service to Her Royal Majesty Ashelia Dalmasca during the war. Prince Rasler brought me to Rabanastre as a wedding gift to her."

"A – a wedding gift? Nabradia used women to fight?" Sera breathed. Daina was talking about herself as if she was property, as if she was a servant. Which she had been, for a while. "You fought against the Empire in the _war_?"

"Allowing me to fight was more my father's whim than Nabradia's," Daina said wryly, answering the first question. She closed her fist. "In all fairness, he could not keep me away. I am no proper lady."

"Does Lord Gabranth know?" whispered Sera.

Daina couldn't help it; she laughed. Considering she had helped rescue "Gabranth" from a crow's cage in an oubliette deep below Nalbina Fortress – "Yes. He knows."

Sera gaped at her for perhaps two more seconds, and then a new thought seemed to galvanize her. "Begging your pardon," she said briskly, rummaging in drawers for a bottle of potion, "but as to all that 'no proper lady' business, I don't believe a word of it. You do just as a lady should. Hasn't Lady Cassady accepted you? Besides, it's obvious to everyone that Lord Gabranth loves you. He would do anything for you. And that's all that matters."

She dabbed potion into the wound as she spoke, wiping away dried blood and the cut itself, her small, round face determined.

"That's all that matters, is it?" Daina was smiling.

"Of course," Sera huffed. This was the world she knew: Powder rooms, dresses, and jewelry. Through Sera, Daina had understood what was expected of her as one of the nobility.

"What would I do without you, Sera?"

"You'd never be able to do a thing with your hair," Sera said sniffily. "Hold still, please."

Meekly, Daina did as she was told, but all this talk of her past had awoken a raw pain in her. While Sera worked her magick, she wondered how her own lady was doing.

Did Ashe miss her at all?

She hated to admit it, but she was homesick. Not for Nabudis; the city of her childhood existed no longer. There was no going back. However, Rabanastre, that white pearl on the desert sands, was still there and thriving. Ashe was building a kingdom worthy of her ancestors, but the Dalmascan queen did not have the support that Larsa did. Her letters were few and far between.

And what of Daina's students? Who was left to teach them? In giving up her duties as Captain and head of palace security, abandoning her knights-in-training had hurt the worst. It had been her task to groom them for the future when they would protect Queen Ashe and all of Dalmasca, but Daina had abandoned them. They were so young, still – so eager, so impressionable.

In fact, they were close in age to Larsa, who was nearing his fourteenth year. She missed her protégés terribly.

Daina closed her eyes, feeling the familiar prickle of tears.

But Larsa was different. He had never seemed much a child in spite of his appearance. The young emperor had done as much for the grief-stricken Basch as anyone could have hoped, because they had both lost someone dear to them in Noah's death. Basch was still the quintessential knight, and had pledged to protect Larsa for the rest of his life. In return, Larsa was a good master. And the way he interacted with Basch was something more than an emperor and his guardian –

It was almost like a son and his father.

Daina's breath hitched, and her eyes flew open. When that happened, the tears that had gathered behind them spilled free. She covered her mouth with her hand.

The hairbrush stilled, and Sera peered down at her. "My Lady?"

"Forgive me, it's nothing," Daina said into her hand, hugging herself tightly as if to hold herself together.

Larsa was driven to restore the name Solidor and to lead the Empire in the most noble of paths. Basch, so wise, was helping Larsa every step of the way, but it was less in matters of ruling an Empire and more in matters of being a man. What Larsa needed most at this crucial time of life was the father his brother had taken from him.

Daina squeezed her eyes shut. Why was she thinking about this _now_? Was it jealousy that gnawed at her so?

In the darkness behind her eyelids, she could see them, the black-haired emperor and the golden-headed judge. Basch adored the boy. If Landis had survived, if the trepan Vayne had not used him, he might have married much sooner. He might have a child of his own, a boy or a girl Larsa's age.

Her heart twisted.

Sera closed the clasp of the semclam shell ornament that kept Daina's hair coiffed. "It doesn't seem like nothing."

"I'm just tired," Daina said, making a great effort to control herself. "That incident, earlier . . ." She vaguely waved her hand.

"Yes, that was quite unsettling," Sera said sympathetically, neglecting to point out that Daina had started it in the first place. "I'll have a sleep scroll sent to you this evening from Charlotte's Magickery."

"Thank you." Sleep. That was what she needed. She was overtired, overwrought – that was why she had lost her temper, why she cried so often. Well, it was silly, whatever the excuse. Her time was not her own. She dried her face, took a deep breath, and returned to the dining parlor.

Larsa and Basch had waited for her reappearance to begin eating, and she demurely took her seat amid the tenor harmonics of their voices. They were talking of the day's court martial, and the sentencing of the men from Nalbina. Not a subject tailored for smiles.

Perhaps it was because of all that had happened in the last hour, which made her feel like she'd been on an emotional airship ride, or perhaps it was the lingering effects of the potion, which she had never dealt with gracefully, but she wasn't very hungry. She bypassed her fork for a glass of serpentwyne (a gift from Migelo) and sat sipping it, lost in thought.

"I've had some disturbing news out of Balfonheim," Larsa announced after the servants had withdrawn. He swirled the spicy-sweet, currant-black wine in his glass.

Daina toyed unenthusiastically with her fish. "From Rikken?" she asked.

"Actually, no." Larsa's eyebrows pinched. "He's not been seen this fortnight past. Elza and Raz are also missing."

"It seems that in their absence, the pirates are operating as mercenaries once more," Basch said. "We've had quite a few brought in by headhunters these last two weeks, more than I have seen at one time, for attacking private and commercial flights. There's a treasure fever afoot."

"That's odd," Daina murmured.

Basch frowned. "You were not aware?"

"No. I've not heard from them recently. I thought they were awfully quiet, but I had no cause for alarm so I didn't mention it."

Since Reddas's death, a trio of pirates, those closest to him, had taken over the management of the free port town. Although Balfonheim lay within the southeastern border of Archadia, Larsa was content to let it remain under their jurisdiction. As he put it, pirates were best to govern pirates, and if they had a place to go to ground, they were more apt to leave everyone else alone. The Senate didn't agree, of course, but Rikken was managing things reasonably well.

"An article written by an antiquarian from Balfonheim has reached me. I have it here." Larsa set his serpentwyne down and pulled a piece of newsprint out of a leather envelope and began to read. " 'Whilst studying the effects of the Mist release in Draklor's great experiment these days past, a curious piece of news came to me by way of a sky pirate. He tells me a new continent has been discovered. This warrants further investigation.

" 'The Sky Continent of Lemurés. Common term for a heretofore uncharted archipelago of purvama floating high above Ivalice. Separated from the outside world by a great barrier of Mist, its people retain a unique culture born of many years of isolation. The only mention of Lemurés is in sky pirate legends and folklores.

" 'It is my seventh day in Lemurés. Already I find myself accustomed to fending off the _yarhi_ – the vulgar word for the beasts of this land. They much resemble those of Ivalice, but they lack substance, fading to nothing when slain.' "

Larsa looked up, his blue eyes troubled. "This article has caused some stir, as you can well imagine. I also received a report from the Royal Society of Anthropology via Lady Ashe. 'The aegyl. The winged race which inhabits Lemurés. With the notable exception of said wings, they are otherwise much like humes in appearance, though they are much shorter lived – a mere forty years. The aegyl shun conflict, and are in fact slow to show emotion of any sort.

" 'These dwellers of the lost sky continent are singular among the races for their short span of life and unexcitable nature. We shall endeavor to unlock their secrets.' "

Daina and Basch looked at each other, both too stunned for words. Ideas raced each other around Daina's brain – the undoing of the Sun Cryst, the explosion of Mist that had fueled the nethicite-laden airship _Bahamut_ . . . could it also have reached this lost continent and wreaked havoc there? What of the aegyl? Hume-like, the report had said. No other races in Ivalice were like humes; by far, the hume population was the largest, and the affairs of the other races revolved around their technological development and governmental squabbles. Did these aegyl pose a threat? If Ashe knew of this discovery, surely Penelo would know, also. Why had Daina not heard from her?

"I require your aid," Larsa said soberly. "I would not ask this of you if I did not need to ascertain the truth and the possible threat as soon as possible. Will you go to Balfonheim for me?"

"Right away, Your Excellency," Basch said, recovering first.

"Thank you," Larsa said earnestly.

* * *

The servants left for their own quarters. Sera puttered around the bedroom, putting things in order for her lady's coming day. She handed the promised sleep scroll to Daina, curtseyed to Basch, who had just entered the room to dress for the night, and noiselessly shut the door behind her.

After she crawled into bed, Daina activated the scroll. The magick slipped over her, stealthy and inexorable, while the mattress dipped under Basch's weight.

"It will be good to see the sea again," she murmured.

A pause in the rustling of sheets. "There is no need for you to come, Lady. Wait here for me. I will return in a few days."

"Wait here?" A slow bubble of anger made its way through the magicked sleep threatening to pull her under, and she struggled onto her elbow. "Why should I?"

"It could be dangerous –" he started, but at her expression, wisely chose not to pursue that path. "I mean to leave before first light, to go under cover of darkness. The sleep spell will not wear off by then."

"That's not good enough," she slurred. Her mind was still angry, but her body was supremely tired. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open, and she collapsed onto her pillow most unwillingly.

"No, I don't suppose it would be," he answered roughly, something very like a scowl creeping across his face. "In light of the recent pirate attacks, the Senate has petitioned to close down the Aerodrome. Zargabaath will let them. By tomorrow, it will not be possible for civilians to leave the city. I will have to go by unconventional routes. The arrangements are for one only. I cannot take you."

"That's mean! I have an alarm clock!" she cried, not even making sense to herself.

"Forgive me, but this is something . . ."

His low voice was fading and she missed the end of the sentence. He pulled her closer, burying his chin in her hair. She fought him off – or tried to. Her muscles weren't working anymore, and she drifted off to sleep snuggled against his chest, peacefully breathing in his warm, golden scent.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: I wasn't planning on updating this one until tonight, but turns out I have a niece's b-day party to attend. C'est la vie!_

_I had to laugh at myself a little. I remember when I first created Daina, I wanted her to be her own woman, but at the same time, I wanted her to be the behind-the-scene friend for Ashe that I (and Quiddities once pointed out) thought she, as a 19-year-old girl, really needed. Thus, I have created Sera in this fic as Daina's friend . . . she's turning out to be a lot of fun. However, I had totally forgotten Serah from FFXIII! Reading "So Starstruck" reminded me. Now I keep getting their faces mixed up . . . Oops. So, to run with it, my Sera and Serah share a last name. Just a nod to another great game. *wicked grin*_

_Reviewer Thanks! __I love having so many of them! Love love! _**_Black Claided Cat _**_(two at once! Yay! I'm glad you came back), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(I've heard imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I don't mind at all, although now I'm burning with curiosity to meet Artemisia and see those two scenes you have planned . . . hint hint), _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(heehee, I'm of the opinion that just because a story is finished doesn't mean the author doesn't want reviews on it - so I'm happy you don't mind I'm starting way back at the beginning of that series. I'm enjoying it immensely!), _**_Darwin _**_(hahaha, your review cracked me up. I could just see you all fired up!), and _**_Apollo06 _**_(I'm thrilled you enjoyed it!). To all of you, once again, my most heartfelt thanks. I couldn't do this without you!_

_~ Anne (who is frantically trying to return to a particular place in the original game because nobody in their right mind would bother typing out all of the non-spoken script and post it on the internet. Yes. I take my fanfics seriously. VERY SERIOUSLY.)_


	5. An Irresistible Opportunity

Daina woke up mad.

She sat straight up, fists clenched, and yelled, "_Basch_!"

Nothing answered. He was gone, as he said he would be.

Liquid afternoon light streamed through her curtains, turning dust motes into specks of gold. She'd slept for fourteen hours straight, at least.

After the initial anger wore off, she realized she felt better than she had in days, as if on the receiving end of one of Fran's renew spells. Contenting herself with a muttered, "Pigheaded old man," she bounced cheerfully out of bed. No sense wasting this newfound energy on things she couldn't change.

She bumped into Sera in the hallway.

"Oh!" Sera fumbled the burgundy box in her hands, and Daina quickly reached out to take it from her. "You are awake. I thought I heard your voice. Did you sleep well, My Lady?"

"Marvelously." Daina grinned, but then she lifted the box. It was very light and cool to the touch. "What is this?"

For some reason, Sera went slightly pink. "My Lord ordered it this morning. It arrived just as he was leaving, and he asked me to make sure to give it to you immediately upon your awakening."

"It's from the confectioner's," Daina said, inspecting the shop name (_Dulcinea's_) printed on the large satin ribbon with mounting curiosity. "In that case, I say we open it right now."

Daina set it on the handsome dining room table, and then she undid the ribbon. A printed embossed card fell out, but she lifted the lid and folded away the paper without sparing it a glance. The two women bent eagerly over the burgundy box.

And then Sera, sounding revolted, blurted, "What is _that_?"

From the box, Daina withdrew a small white confection that trembled on its fussy little plate. A cap of golden-brown caramel drizzled down its sloping sides. What looked horribly like a toothless, shapeless mouth gaped halfway down the thing, and two hard candies represented eyes. In all, it resembled nothing so much as a miniature fiend amid its sweetshop wrappings.

"It's a flan," Daina said blankly.

"A _what_?" Sera snatched up the card, indignant that her master could pull such a tasteless prank.

"A sub-species of amorph," Daina explained absently, still blinking at the wobbling mound of sweetened egg custard. "They live beneath the Dalmascan desert, in the Garamsythe Waterway and Barheim Passage."

"That's exactly what it says here!" Sera exploded angrily. " 'Dulcinea's Confectionary is proud to present a partnership with The Iron Stomach, a guild of tasters known for its roster of legendary chefs, who has announced a new dessert!' " Although Sera's reading was flat, Daina could still hear the printed exclamation point. " 'Called "flan" after the creature of the same name, and fashioned much like its namesake, its popularity is rising as a hunter's treat. In an astonishing example of creature influencing dessert –' Oh, _really_, that is just disgusting. . . ."

Daina, however, was grinning. "No, it isn't. It's genius."

"You _can't_ be serious."

Laughing helplessly, Daina sank into a chair, and the melting flan jiggled. She had never cared much for flowers or trinkets, but this unusual gift from her husband had real meaning. He was reminding her that he knew what she was, and it was an apology for leaving her behind. How he had even discovered such a thing existed was beyond her, since he wasn't fond of sweets, but she laughed until her sides hurt.

"That's love for you," Sera sighed, clearing away the box and wrappings.

* * *

Although the hour was late, night had not yet drawn its indigo cloak across Archades. It was hot in Molberry, and only the streetears were running about with any kind of life. They flitted from one brightly-colored, spangled noble to the next like butterflies alighting on blossoms, subject to gossip's capricious winds.

Daina, used to Dalmasca's heat, moved easily through the narcoleptic clumps of her fellow nobles, although the bricks beneath her feet were hard and unforgiving against her heeled sandals.

Sera and a couple of the menservants, laden with the parcels that contained her new dress and accessories for the theatre, made up her train. Sera would not allow Daina to appear at public events in the same gown more than once. She put her tiny foot down whenever Daina dared to suggest it.

"I think that's everything, My Lady," she mused, ticking things off a mental list. "Is there anywhere else you wish to go before we return?"

Strictly speaking, Sera was in Basch's employ, not Daina's. She came from a family without a father, for he had left them six months ago to start a new life with a new wife. Such a thing was unheard of to Daina, who had grown up under the knight's honor code, but divorce seemed commonplace in Archades. Sera's mother and her younger brothers and sisters – all eight of the children – lived at the very edge of Old Archades, having gradually been pushed further from their home in the affluent districts as their savings dwindled. Each week, Sera sent a large part of her wages home to them. She was a pert, neatly-dressed girl, and her knowledge of higher society and all its quirks and inner workings was astounding.

"No, I can't think of anything else," Daina answered her, wincing. Her feet hurt. "If that's everything, then I am ready to go home."

Unfortunately, there was a line at the taxi station in Nilbasse. Sera directed the men to take up position in line and then went to speak to the cabbie manning the station.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait an hour or more," she informed her mistress a few minutes later, examining her watch.

Daina merely nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes roved over the shopping district, but were arrested by a flash of blue: A banner strung up on the sidewalk. Opposite was a pink banner. Familiar colors, instantly recognizable in any marketplace. She didn't need to read the shop name, but her eyes picked it out anyway.

Vint's Armaments.

She bit her lip, debating. Then, without a word, she strode through the milling crowd and pushed open the door to the weapons side of the shop. Cool air reached out for her, curled around her, and pulled her into the dimly-lit store that smelled of wood polish, oiled metal, and leather soap. Bells on the door tinkled as it shut behind her.

The few patrons in the shop looked up curiously, men all, but no one commented on her appearance and they soon went back to their browsing. The shopkeeper Vint either recognized her as a judge magister's wife or simply saw her fine raiment and concluded she had money to spend, and nodded amiably at her.

"Is there something you need in here?" Sera whispered, causing Daina to jump.

"No," she whispered back, "but I wanted to browse. I've never shopped in here. I bought my last katana in Balfonheim." She stopped. Thinking of Balfonheim made her think of Basch. She missed him already, and hoped he would be able to uncover the truth behind the rumors quickly and come home.

Several questions passed rapidly over Sera's face, but she voiced none of them, and instead resignedly nodded her acquiescence. She kept close to Daina's elbow.

Daina couldn't help smiling to herself as she moved along the table cases and glass fronted cabinets, each containing a wide array of gleaming, sharp-edged swords. These might be considered her jewelry. In her pursuit for beauty, she unerringly beheld it in a well-forged blade.

On the second level of the shop, Daina found a katana of a design she'd never seen before. She moved closer, squinting at the sword's dusty card, which was crookedly pinned to the equally dusty velvet backing.

_Masamune, bazaar package (2 gemsteel, 3 orichalcum, 2 mallet). 88,888g_

It was a gorgeous katana. The blade shimmered like quicksilver in the shop's low lighting, miraculously free of dust, and a zigzagging line of red lacquer resembled a blood groove along the length. The hilt was wrapped in bands of golden werewolf suede, supple and soft. Its breathtaking elegance could be seen in the impossible length of the thin blade. She touched the hand guard longingly, desire to test the sword's balance flowing up her arm like a bravery status effect, and then, catching the uneasiness in Sera's expression, she straightened.

"I've seen enough. Shall we go?" she asked lightly.

The two women exited the shop, trading its dusty cool for the suffocating heat outside. The menservants had moved less than halfway up the line.

And then she heard a woman's eager voice floating out of a knot of sunburned streetears. ". . . strange fiends, like illusions, but their bite's bad enough. No one's safe outside of the city, not with thieving, cutthroat pirates on the rampage."

What was it Basch had said yesterday about pirates?

"Sera, do you know that ardent?" Daina asked sharply.

"Yes, her name is July," Sera answered, alarmed at her lady's suddenly burning green eyes. "She's one to be trusted, for her information does not always come from within Archades. She'll hunt a lead all the way to Rozarria, if need be."

Thinking fast, Daina handed over one of her own sandalwood chops. "I want to know everything she knows about pirate activity of late and those strange fiends. Will you do that for me?"

Nonplussed, Sera reluctantly accepted the chop, which was worth over twenty of the normal pine chops she carried. Not once in the months since coming to Archades had Daina requested information of the streetears. She had not forgotten the wily Jules, who had somehow missed his calling as a shyster in the Ministry of Law. Nor had she forgotten Balthier's pain. On the other hand, Sera plied her own trade among the ardents, for she was Archadian bred and this was as normal as drinking tea, and Daina, as much as she disliked the custom, saw no real reason to prevent her.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but I am woefully out of practice in negotiating," Daina added wryly. "I know you can get what I need."

At once, Sera's face cleared, and she nodded. "Of course, My Lady!"

She ran off.

Daina checked on her men, still waiting patiently in line, and then she hurried in the other direction on her aching feet. She boarded a monorail to Rienna, and within five minutes had made her way to Granch's Requisites. Out of breath and sweating, she entered the shop. There, at the far wall, stood a hunt notice board. Daina approached it stealthily, and glanced over it with a practiced eye. This was Vaan's sort of work, but perhaps her old friend Montblanc would be willing to aid her if her hunch turned out to be correct.

There – that hunt. Bill No. 22, Rank IV. "I'm looking to be more popular with the ladies," it read. "Figure killin' a tough monster oughta do it. Just don't mention you helped me out, okay?" According to the bill, the petitioner could be found in Bulward's Technicks right here in Archades.

Perfect! The bounty was inconsequential, and, unlike Vaan, she had no desire to make a name for herself in the Clan Annals. This "insecure seeq" could take all the credit. She ripped the notice off the board and ducked out of Granch's before anyone saw what she was doing.

* * *

"Long have the pirates wished to see the legendary floating island, and it is from there that they have begun attacking the cities of the Empire," Sera said, having questioned July so thoroughly as to be mistress of the subject. "They bring these yarhi with them. Apparently, the yarhi look just like the beasts of Ivalice, but they do not die – they merely disappear like so many Mist-dreams. The pirates have defected, our alliances with them broken. They are seeking magick stones in order to summon these illusory yarhi to do their bidding. 'Tis like a vast treasure hunt. The pirates have gone quite mad over the stones."

"Magick stones? Like magicite?" Daina frowned. They were huddled on Daina's balcony, under cover of the strong winds to prevent the risk of being overheard. The sun was setting, and in the dark eastern sky, stars of yellow and purple blipped into existence.

Sera shook her head. "It's called _auracite_."

Auracite. Not nethicite, at least. Daina had had enough nightmares over Dr. Cid's folly.

Then she frowned. Magick stones to summon monsters. It sounded an awful lot like the crystal she herself had used in order to summon the esper Shemhazai.

"My Lady, what are you planning on doing?" Sera asked, bringing her back to the present.

"Lord Gabranth has gone to investigate the pirates' defection on His Excellency's request," she said. "However, I do not believe either one of them realizes how close this problem has already come to the Empire's gates. I will go to determine how much farther it has spread."

"By yourself?" Sera grimaced.

"For the moment, yes." Daina produced the bill she had pulled off the notice board and showed it to her. "This will help me get out of the city. With the Aerodrome locked down, I have no choice but to go by foot. I hope to learn more in the Hunter's Camp."

"But what will people say?" Revulsion twisted Sera's pretty features, and she held the bill in the tips of her fingers as if afraid of contamination. "You are a _lady_, not some filthy, violent, bounty-seeking hunter."

"They will say nothing. It is in my best interest that no one discovers what I am about," Daina said sharply. She folded the bill and then looked Sera in the eye. "I am a judge magister's wife, but I am also a knight. Although I no longer have a master, the vows I swore compel me to seek out darkness and quell it. This hunt is merely a means to an end, and it is not a dishonorable course of action."

_Once a knight, always a knight._

Sera seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, and then she contritely said, "I will keep your secrets, My Lady. No one shall find out through me."

"Thank you –" Daina started, but Sera cut her off.

"There is one other thing you must know. The pirates are not alone. A race of winged humes have banded together with them and declared war on Ivalice!"

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Well! I'm so sorry for my absence, friends. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

_Reviewer Thanks! _**_Black Claided Cat _**_(eventually I do plan on converging with the RW script, but I'm having fun with Daina running amok on her own for now, hee - I hope the snow is leaving you alone!), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(go ahead - Daina always needs a hug! She's so emo . . . hee), _**_Darwin _**_(OMG, Basch as Noah . . . apparently, he really is pulling it off, and I'm baffled as to how he's doing it. I mean, did he have those moments of, "I seem to have lost my house key," or "Where is my office? Do I HAVE an office?", or "I'm sorry, but who are you?" I mean, seriously! But I think that's a fanfic for a better writer . . .), _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(well, the obvious answer is that you SHOULD post it. *nods* And then I can read it! But I need to get through the ones you have posted first, hee, because they are ultra-deserving of more reviews!), and _**_Apollo06 _**_(hee, I'm so happy you liked that detail!). My love to you all. Don't let Monday get you down!_

_~ Anne_


	6. A Wild Stench

When Daina opened her trunk, the first thing the sun touched was her iga blade. She undid the straps that kept it and its harness tied to the trunk lid, and then drew the ninja sword. The sunlight dimmed, soaked up by the blade's dark magicite.

Next, she pulled out the pieces of her Dalmascan uniform. She dressed alone, wielding the straps, buckles, snaps, hooks, and buttons of her vest, miniskirt, and underthings with ease. She laced up and buckled her soft brown boots, and then quickly braided her waist-length hair. From her jewelry box, she withdrew the first gift Basch had ever given her: A barrette shaped like a white dove. She clipped it into the braid.

It was almost time to go.

After several minutes of pushing with all her might, she was forced to concede that the living room sofa was too heavy for her to move. She climbed unceremoniously up the back of it and lifted the yakei off the wall. No matter how carefully she did it, however, part of the hand guard struck the sheath of the Sword of the Order as she lowered it, and the bigger blade let out a dull, mournful _clunk_.

That was how Sera found her, boots braced into the sofa cushions like some street-bred harlot, slinging a very real sword low over her hips.

"Have a little care for the upholstery, if you please," she said tartly on her way into the kitchen.

Daina hopped down.

"How are you going to leave Central without being seen?" Sera's voice sounded much farther away than the kitchen, but when Daina followed her, she found her unnecessarily rearranging a drawer of utensils.

Daina dug a small orange crystal shard from her pocket. "I have one last teleport stone left. I can use the old crystal in Tsenoble to take me to the entrance of the Sochen Cave Palace, and then make my way back into the city from there. I can always buy more of these to get me back home." She almost said she had a supplier – the traveling merchant Dyce – but decided to spare Sera the unsavory details.

"Well, for certain no one will take you for a lady. You look like a ruffian," Sera said.

Daina picked up an apple, bit into it, and chewed thoughtfully. "You should have seen Lord Gabranth in those days." If _she _looked like a ruffian, Basch had been a downright barbarian.

At that, Sera slammed down a spoon. "I can't let you do this, My Lady!"

"It isn't your choice," Daina said, frowning.

"That's just it!" Sera's eyes were overly bright. "What am I to tell the judge magister if you get hurt, or don't come back? How am I to live with myself if anything happens to you?"

The two women stared at each other. Daina lowered the apple.

"You're worried about me."

"Of course I am! My Lady, you – you're –"

Sera couldn't finish through her tears, but Daina understood. Affection surged through her. She put her arms around the younger woman and rested her forehead on Sera's shoulder. Like a little girl in need of reassurance, Sera hugged her back.

"Thank you," Daina said. "I can't do this without your help. And I must do this, to protect the Empire – to protect you. I will come back. You have my word."

* * *

The petitioner was much easier to win over than Sera.

"Ah, you must be here about the bill!" he wheezed. In the dim lighting of the Technick store, he didn't seem to have realized she was a woman. "See, I need to kill a _seriously_ tough monster to impress the ladies. Thought an overlord should do the trick."

He paused, snuffled wetly, and then bowed his heavy head. "Okay, I'm not so sure I can handle it. Thought I'd call in some help! You ready? Don't want to keep the ladies waitin'." He snorted, rather like a pug. "Well, boy? Are you in or out?"

"I accept," she said, holding out her mailed hand.

He shook it, sealing the deal, his words coming faster and more incoherently in his excitement. "So, we're hunting an overlord down in the Sochen Cave Palace. Once we kill it, I'll be beating the ladies back with a stick!"

He made a noise that sounded like _bwheeeee_! which Daina took for seeq laughter.

"Do you own a nihopalaoa?" she asked as they crossed the bridge into Old Archades.

"A nee-ho-whalala?"

She had expected that. "There is an alley merchant down here, and we should buy some things before we go."

Under Daina's direction, the seeq purchased the accessory, a remedy, a stock of hi-potions, a very expensive phoenix down, and a handful of gysahl greens.

"What do I need all this for?" he complained.

"You'll see," was all Daina would tell him. She figured the less he knew about what they were getting into, the better. She led the way out of Archades.

"Let's find this overlord," the insecure seeq snorted eagerly, raising meaty fists. "Don't wanna keep the ladies waiting!"

And off he trotted into the Cave Palace on swine-like hooves, all of his jewels and hip pouches clanking. Daina, doubting whether the green-horned seeq possessed any battle skill, had no choice but to follow.

"Keep the remedy ready," she called after him, but all she got in response was a startled squeal as a decomposing corpse reared up and latched putrescent hands around the seeq's fleshy throat.

The yakei squealed also, metal against wood, as it cleared its sheath. She felled the zombie, and then allowed the seeq to use her as leverage to gain his feet. Her boots sank an inch or so into the loam of the cave floor under his weight.

"Thank you," he panted, rubbing the back of his hand under his chin. His brown eyes had no whites, but they looked frightened just the same.

"Please stay close to me," she grumbled. "Remember what I told you. I'm not a mage and can't use many spells, so I need you –" _alive_, she clarified silently – "to help out with the items."

"Right . . . you're right."

"Are you wearing the nihopalaoa?"

"This?" He touched the thick chain around his neck, pulling it into view. The nihopalaoa looked like a brown-and-white coral snake without head or tail. "Why did you have me buy this?"

"We'll need its effects," she said dismissively. She started off again. The yakei remained in her hand.

"So it's special then, is it?"

"Very."

"I get to keep it. You won't be takin' this as part of the bounty," he said.

She ducked her head to hide her smile. Seeqs. They loved shiny things, choosing accessories more for individual prettiness than the overall effect, but their clownish simplicity was offset by their brute strength. There were worse partners in a battle, though not many.

Sochen seemed darker to her, more sinister, its earthen passageways stinking of mold, rot, and beast musk. She didn't remember it being this bad a year ago. And no matter what she said, the seeq kept charging into clumps of fiends he couldn't defeat as if to prove his masculinity.

That was how they stumbled into the ambush.

The overlord resembled the gate guardian in Giruvegan, the headless swordsman Daedalus, with its stunted wings and powerful stature. It lumbered silently out of the shadows behind them and knocked the seeq flying. Then, as if it felt the vibrations of her breath and heartbeat against its decaying skin, it swung its huge, spiked club at Daina.

Her boot came down on a loose rock and her ankle twisted, nearly dumping her in the dirt. Fortunately, the movement got her out of range of the overlord's club, which whistled harmlessly past her left ear. A grim smile worked over her lips.

Perhaps she'd merely gotten used to life at the top. She was too soft. Well, here was her chance to do something about it.

Before she could, her employer lunged out of the dark, his upturned snout and flabby white belly preceding him. He slapped at the overlord, putting the full momentum of his body behind the attack. Seeqs were thick and squat. This one easily weighed three times as much as Daina. He did enough damage to the headless fiend to cause it to turn toward him in annoyance.

Daina, however, was not grateful. "Don't attack! Use the remedy, like we planned!" she yelled.

Too late. The overlord hunched over, red Mist spiraling around the cavern. Daina went down in the hellish pyromania it unleashed. The heat – its incredible intensity made her scream and plead for it to stop. It went on and on.

Then, somehow, the seeq was there, his voice buzzing in her ear.

"Here's a potion – here! Drink it!"

"Not from you!" she bellowed, pushing him away with such strength that he nearly spilled the bottle all over both of them. Abyssal celebrant, could she have possibly been saddled with more of a posturing, snaggle-toothed fool? He was going to get them both killed! "The nihopalaoa reverses item effects. I have my own potion. You get the remedy on the mark!"

Gibbering, the seeq blundered into the headless's range. Daina popped the cork on a fresh bottle of hi-potion just as the seeq tackled the overlord. Purple fluid splashed everywhere, and she saw, with immense satisfaction, when the overlord halted, confused. It was blinded, slowed, poisoned, petrified, covered in oil, and diseased. The magickal cure-all, the remedy, when poured by a user wearing the nihopalaoa, caused all of the status effects it normally removed.

In short, their mark was easy pickings.

With identical grins, Daina and the seeq moved in for the kill.

* * *

"I did it!" the seeq crowed, laughing uproariously. _Bwheee hee hee hee snrk_! "The sooner I start singing my own praises the better for womankind."

Daina had no response to this. Wearily, she hiked up the last loamy, underground hill and passed from shadow into light. The Tchita Uplands were swelteringly hot.

"Hey," the seeq said slowly, blinking in the sunlight. Her bounty lay in his massive paws. "You're a _girl_."

She laughed and accepted the reward. "I saw no reason to correct you. Now, the Hunter's Camp is to the southwest, a few hours' walk. That's where you'll want your name heard. All of the tough hunters gather there."

"Walk?" The seeq looked appalled.

"Just until I find us some chocobos."

This, as it turned out, took no time at all. Daina, drawing in deep, slow breaths of the salty, flower-scented air, immensely grateful to be out of the cloying closeness of the Cave Palace, suddenly bent double, retching. The unmistakable stink of chocobos had hit her full on. The birds had a unique but truly foul stench that was stronger than the whole of Sochen's damp, forgotten tunnels.

"That way," she gasped weakly, her eyes swimming, and pointed. Her stomach turned over, and she clapped her gloved hands over her nose and mouth. Voice muffled, she managed to say, "You'll have to do it."

While the seeq secured mounts by waving gysahl greens at them and then running full tilt back to Daina, arms over his head and two giant yellow birds in hot pursuit of lunch, she called upon all of her swordsman's discipline and got to her feet. Then, she mounted one of the birds, breathing shallowly. Tolerating the smell shouldn't be that hard from up there. When she turned the chocobo's head for the southwest, she was feeling better.

As the time wound forward, Daina began singing. She had done it. She had broken free of her birdcage and was now flying free, answering her life's call. Her voice was as pure as the snow in Paramina Rift, as complex as Migelo's rare serpentwyne. The seeq ogled her, mouth agape. His chocobo resignedly followed Daina's, since he wasn't driving. They topped the rise in Rava's Pass and descended hills of white sand and tall, sticky saltgrass. The Hunter's Camp rose to meet them.

"You're a fine lady," he blurted. "A beautiful treasure – I mean, if you please – You saw what I can do back there. I'd never treat you badly –"

"I'm married," she said.

"Ah, just as well, I suppose," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his hand under his chin. He perked up immediately. "Hey, ladies! Make way for the finest, toughest hunter around!"

He kicked his chocobo into a grudging trot, all of his rolls bouncing, and flagged down two viera wayfarers. Incredulous, Daina shook her head as she rode by. The viera, far from being offended, were listening to the seeq with their ears pricked forward. She would never understand how such nubile creatures could care so little for the appearance of others. One of them actually seemed to be inviting the seeq's advances.

_Good luck to you_, Daina thought. She dismounted in a spray of glittering sand, patting her chocobo when it rubbed its beak against her shoulder affectionately.

It was time to engage in a different kind of hunt.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Ack, I am SO TIRED. My eyes feel like sandpaper. I actually don't know how much sense this chapter makes, but I wanted to post it since I'm waiting for dinner anyway. LOL. Please enjoy!_

_Reviewer Thanks! __Have I mentioned lately how much your reviews make my day? Well, they do. _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(I'm so happy you're enjoying it! We never do forget our friends, do we?), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(lmao, that bit about the Iron Stomach, I copied directly from the bestiary entry for the flan. I cracked up when I first read it and knew I had to stick it in a fanfic somehow. Is it still fanservice if I did it for myself?), _**_Darwin _**_(hee, the disadvantage of talking to you is not having anything to say here . . . maybe I'll do an omake for you and have Daina chewing Basch out in a parallel universe), and _**_Black Claided Cat _**_(yay, I'm happy you're having fun! Amok! Amok amok!)._

_~ Anne_


	7. Judge of Wings

At the theatre, Lady Cassady's party consisted of about twenty people, including some lesser judges and their wives, and they took up an entire box at the play. Daina accepted her place among them, grateful for Sera's foresight, because the younger ladies examined and complimented the different parts of her dress as a matter of course. She, being a judge magister's wife, technically outranked even Lady Cassady and was expected to set the fashion. A few of the women seemed disappointed there was nothing to criticize. Their talk was vapid and shrill. The men stood on one side of the octagonal waiting room, women on the other, the unmarried gentlemen and ladies sneaking furtive glances across the space in the middle.

Daina's early training of speaking only when spoken to was an asset here; the less she said, the longer her credibility as a noblewoman would stand up.

"Oh, my," one of the women said. She closed her eyes, hand to her forehead as if she would faint. "Oh, my my my."

"What is it, Barba?" was the immediate reaction from all sides.

Barba would not elucidate until each person present had demanded an answer at least once. "My mother sent me to purchase an extra ticket for the show tonight, but I went and bought two by mistake," she finally said. "I was in such a fright of her reaction, I have but just got over it."

Murmurs of sympathy rippled through her friends.

She waited until someone asked her how she had gotten out of the scrape, and then she drew herself up importantly. "A streetear heard my mother make engagements for _two_ of her friends, not the one she'd promised. What a stroke of luck for me! I hastened to her with the pair of tickets, and she never praised my foresight so highly."

"And you gave the streetear two chops for saving your prospects," a dark-eyed girl surmised.

"Certainly not," Barba said, restored to all of her strident poise. "A little hearsay does not equal a day's work. He got _one_ and no more. Don't you think I did right, Lady Praeities?"

"As right as expected," Daina said, hiding her surprise at the sudden attack behind a faint smile.

Barba sparkled. The other women received Daina's cool tone as a product of high breeding, not catching her true meaning, and for the span of the evening tried to emulate her accent.

The lights dimmed three times before coming back full strength. The cacophony of voices died down as everyone took their seats and prepared to be entertained.

Unfortunately, Daina couldn't concentrate on the play. She was too sore. Every muscle in her body hurt, and she shifted one way, tried another, changing position in her seat so often she heard someone tut behind her.

"Are you well, Daina?" Lady Cassady whispered under cover of her program.

"Yes, Your Ladyship. Forgive me. I –" She scrambled for an excuse for her lack of attention. "Lord Gabranth is on an errand for His Excellency. He expected to return by this evening, but he has not yet come home."

Lady Cassady looked as if she didn't quite believe her, but she merely nodded and lowered the program without pressing her. She had taken a liking to Daina from their first meeting, calling the younger woman by her given name, having Daina sit by her at all their engagements. Her notice and care of Lady Praeities demanded the respect of the other women.

When the lights went up for intermission, Daina took advantage of the bustle to stretch her aching muscles and try to work a kink out of her back. Camping on the beach, riding a chocobo, and tussling with an overlord might have been a bit ambitious after her year of inactivity, she thought ruefully.

In the box, their party couldn't divide as it had, and a handful of the men stood near enough to Daina and Lady Cassady that the two women made part of their group, although the women were not called on to speak. The men began a discussion on the appointments of new judges, which were scheduled for next month. Daina wasn't surprised to see several young men from the School of Law there who were on the ballot, eager for the acceptance and future votes of their betters.

Judges. Arbiters of the Empire. The judge magisters, armored and helmed, who were commanders of the imperial army, were known all over Ivalice. They were the icons of the Empire's power. The war and, more specifically, Princess Ashe and her band of renegades, had decreased their numbers until only one remained: His Honor Zargabaath, commander of the _Alexander_. According to Zargabaath, there had been a woman judge magister under Emperor Gramis by the name of Drace, but Gabranth – the real one, although Zargabaath did not realize the difference – had executed her for treason against Vayne Solidor by the order of the same.

Ivalice would not soon forget the war. Many people were still shell-shocked, still rebuilding what two years of battles had destroyed, and the Empire embodied their fears. Basch, in wearing Noah's armor, had taken that ill-will upon his own shoulders. For many years decried as the worst of traitors in Dalmascan history, recorded in the history books as the King Slayer, and for many years thought _dead_ by the world, he had chosen his future with his eyes open.

But Basch was gone to Balfonheim, and whispered rumors spoke of a new judge magister, one who did not hail from Archades and called herself the Judge of Wings.

* * *

Once she reached the Hunter's Camp, Daina was disconcerted to find guards posted. They stopped her and gruffly asked her her business.

"Clan Centurio," she said, showing them the envelope from Montblanc's last letter with the clan leader's seal still intact.

They nodded and stepped aside to let her pass, and as she tucked the envelope back into her vest, she asked, "What's all this for?"

"Sky pirates," one of them said gruffly, as if that explained everything.

"If ye ask me, it's not the pirates so much as them headhunters after 'em," his partner said, scratching his ear.

The other gave him a look of disgust. "The headhunters are the only ones keeping those blasted sky pirates under control. They come here, upsetting the vendors, declaring there's to be a war and that they're on the winning side – _pfah._" He spat in the sand. "You'd best watch your back, missy. Not a time for hunters to seek marks alone, you hear me?"

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. The Hunter's Camp was right on Archadia's border. Perhaps the problem was closer than Larsa had any idea of. This was why she had decided to investigate on her own. Basch was only one man, following one lead. She would follow another, and perhaps they would meet in the middle.

Her chocobo gave a soft _wark_, rustling its wings. She consigned it to Gurdy, the little pink-frocked moogle hovering by the vendor of wares, and Gurdy released it with her own flock. The sociable birds rubbed beaks, turning their narrow heads toward the sea breeze.

It _was_ good to see the sea again. It was more beautiful than even her birthland, and incorruptible in its fluidity. Daina loved its emptiness, its expanse, and the shifting blues of its waves.

The second time Basch had kissed her had been here on the beach. She smiled at the memory and went in search of something to eat. She rather knew she was hungry than felt herself to be so, and she bypassed many of the heartier stews and sandwiches for a selection of fresh fruit.

Plate in hand, she strolled around the camp. Hunters gathered here to talk, rest, and restock. Some of the vendors were permanent, others as transient as the caravans. She hoped to hear something useful.

The hope was vain. What sounded like a riot erupted at the far western edge of the camp. Daina ran toward the shouts and found a full battle being waged on the white sands.

One side appeared to be constructed of beasts. Silver lobos darted into the ranks of defenders, white tusks flashing. Golden-winged pyrolisks screamed down from the sky, while gray-feathered bagolies lumbered in on foot. Even toothy piranhas and rainbow-iridescent iguions pulled themselves out of the surf to fight.

Or – not out of the surf. Daina could see a crew of bedraggled, filthy pirates, lounging on rocks and laughing, and one of them held up a pink crystal. Black Mist streamed out of it, and so, too, did more beasts.

"Yarhi devils be damned! You'll never take us!" a red-skinned bangaa hunter swore at the top of his lungs, and, with a roar, every hunter from the camp rushed into the fight. Whenever a blade or a shot clipped the summoned beasts, they vanished in a cloud of Mist. But there were always more, vomiting out of the pirates' pink crystals.

The battle rolled closer like a tidal wave. Daina threw down her plate, drew the yakei, and then the yarhi were on her.

A few minutes of fierce fighting commenced. Daina never saw who reached the pirates, but someone did, and the auracite was either taken or destroyed. After that, it was easy to dispatch the remaining yarhi.

Spittle flecked the beard of one captured pirate as a pair of seeqs forced his hands into cuffs behind his back. "I hear her in my mind," he howled. "Behind me eyes. Her words a siren song to me. Attack Ivalice? Never! And yet I cannot do otherwise. I am powerless to stop."

He collapsed, weeping, and the grim-faced hunters dragged him away.

"The lot of you is headed for Archades, gents," the fiery bangaa said, planting the butt of his spear in the sand. "Seeing as how you like judges so much, let's have you cozy up to them at the Ministry."

"Who said anything about the Ministry?" a female sky pirate shrieked. "We what follow _her_ know the truth! All of Ivalice will bow to her, aye, and the Empire too!"

"Her?" Daina asked aloud, cleaning the yakei's blade, her eyes on the female pirate. She wasn't much to look at, but the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder made Daina think of Elza. Where was Rikken and his motley crew?

A hunter turned to her. "Ye don't know? There's a judge behind these sky pirates. Her what they call the Judge of Wings. She's all got up in black armor like a judge magister."

There weren't any female judge magisters. Not since Drace. "Who is she?"

"No one knows," he said with a shrug. "But I can tell you, she's the one sending these sky pirates on the hunt for auracite."

* * *

Had Basch discovered Rikken's whereabouts? At the theatre, Daina frowned, rolling her head to relieve the tension in her neck. If anyone, Rikken would know about the Judge of Wings. Holding her breath so she wouldn't have to smell them, she waved off a waiter and his tray of salmon pineapple canapés. Archadian food was one of the twelve mysteries of Ivalice, in her opinion.

"All this aside," one of the men said, finishing his glass of port, "it's the appointment of the new judge magisters that has my interest."

"I have heard that the refurbishment of the new _Leviathan_ is nearly complete," another added. "She'll need a commander."

"The _Leviathan_! I should have known you'd choose her, Epstein. You'll have to settle for something smaller. Her commander is to be Judge Magister Gabranth, I'd lay money on it."

"Lady Praeities? Perhaps you could speak to that effect," Lady Cassady put in.

The men, judges and hopefuls, turned to her, some of them affronted that a woman would interrupt their lofty discussion.

"Yes, Lord Gabranth will command the completed _Leviathan_," Daina said composedly, managing to hide a wince of pain. "In fact, His Excellency is only waiting for my Lord's return to bring her out of dock. She will sail under Dalmascan colors."

"Emperor Larsa is giving the flagship to the Dalmascan queen?" one of the men asked, startled.

"Yes. It is a gift to Queen Ashe as a gesture of the Empire's goodwill." Daina smiled, knowing how pleased Her Majesty was going to be. Dalmasca's shipyards were not as rich as those of the Empire.

"Is a gesture necessary?" the same man asked. "We have no need of such a small kingdom, which is more like a blight on our borders than an ally of worth. If anything, they need us."

"Then you put no emphasis on the fact that Dalmasca is the key to the heaviest trade routes on this continent," Daina countered.

"House Solidor thought to take those routes for our own," he answered. "They failed. It is time to break completely with all backwater countries. His Excellency is too soft."

Daina studied him, and then she said, "Some felt Lord Larsa ill fit to lead the Empire. They heralded the fall of House Solidor. Surely those voices must now fall silent. He has led with strength and wisdom. He has been tempered by the fires of war. He is an example to us all."

An uncomfortable silence followed this, until broken by yet another judge. "Lady Praeities, do you know which other ships are set aside for new commanders?"

"Aside from the _Leviathan_," Daina paused and thought, "there will be five judge magisters appointed from your assembly for the _Odin_, _Ifrit_, _Titan_, _Typhoon_, and _Hades_."

The judges seemed divided, some trusting to her knowledge of the emperor's intentions, some doubting.

"Lady Praeities," one of the law students said, introducing himself. "It is my greatest wish to become a judge. Could you, perhaps, tell me something of it?"

"I can only tell you what you already know. To be a judge is to be a keeper of precepts. Lady Cassady may be able to satisfy your thirst for knowledge better than I."

Lady Cassady bowed her gratitude. "The Ministry of Law is a noble profession," she said, holding her gray head high. "For many years, my husband served this Empire and was fulfilled. However, there is one thing that he forgot, that I would charge all of you, now, to remember. Your families should always come first. Do not neglect them for your duties, or you will find that your life passes on without you."

Once again, the lights flickered, signaling the commencement of the play's second half.

"Commanding the _Leviathan_ will take Judge Magister Gabranth from home more often," the same lady observed when they resumed their seats.

"It is unavoidable," Daina said. This time, she couldn't entirely suppress a grimace as she sat, which Lady Cassady saw.

"Let us hope, my dear, that when your family grows, he never loses sight of you."

Daina opened her mouth, and then words belatedly caught up with it. "Thank you, Your Ladyship, but as yet, we expect no children."

Lady Cassady's eyes were kind. The lights expired, plunging them into darkness, and Daina was left with her own thoughts, torn between amusement and an unexplainable sorrow.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: *peeks in* Hello, Fanfiction! How have you all been? It has now been . . . almost three months since my last update. I am so very sorry (for myself, and for those who have favorited this story). The only thing I can offer as an excuse is that I was suddenly seized by an undeniable urge to work on two of my original fiction projects. I did, and got very far and (I think) did very well. Now, just as before, both projects have stalled and I have turned to Daina for consolation._

_The only big problem I had was that I FORGOT half of what was supposed to happen and be said in this chapter. I winged it. I hope it reads okay! I'm determined that FaMP won't be as long as ASftP, so things are moving right along._

_Further note: I rearranged the last chapter so that it reads chronologically. Originally, it bounced around on a whim of mine, but since I played the same trick here, I decided that was going overboard. Nothing else changed._

_Reviewer Thanks__! _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(YES! Success! That was exactly the reaction I wanted at that part. *does a victory dance*), _**_Darwin _**_(thank you!), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(why, what gave you that idea? *grin*), _**_Apollo06 _**_(thank you!), and**Black Claided Cat **(thank you!)._

_I can't say it enough, you guys. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!_

_To those of you who were receiving reviews from me, or whose stories I've been following, I'll be visiting you again soon. I am sorry, again, for disappearing like that. (**Persephone Falling**, I got your PM, and you are so welcome!) For now, gentle adieus._

_Anne_

_____P.S. There is something really wonky about italics in the main text. If you see whole sentences italicized, I didn't do that. Please try to ignore it._  



	8. Darkening Clouds Gather

_I don't think I'm cut out for going it solo_, Daina thought wryly as she dragged herself home after a hunt that had taken her dangerously close to Balfonheim. She was exhausted.

She'd purposely avoided making any inquiries after Basch, and although she was sure he could no longer be in Balfonheim, she'd requested the petitioner meet her in the Cerobi Steppe, near where the mark was last seen. The viera had readily complied, anxious to retrieve her haversack that a vyraal had flown off with. It hadn't been easy tracking the wyvern down, but they had done it, and engaged it in the Northsward on the third day.

"Get down here!" Daina shouted through the storm of dirt and grass kicked up by the massive creature's wings. The viera, like all of her kin, was sensitive to Mist, and she could cast powerful magicks. She'd cloaked Daina with a decoy spell and was peppering the vyraal from a safe distance with her arrows while Daina took the brunt of the damage from the mark. The yakei and the vyraal's fangs clashed, but the wyvern never got within striking range.

Suddenly, the vyraal's snout drove past the sweep of the yakei, belching fire, and knocked Daina flat. Its brute strength was too much for her, its flight an advantage against her. She fended the creature off with the shorter iga blade and her feet, dreading the next snap of its teeth, and then one of the viera's arrows sank deep in its eye and the brain beyond – the sure way of killing a wyvern.

Daina pulled in her limbs and blindly rolled. The vyraal crashed to the ground, stinking of sulfur, and where its blood splashed, the grass died.

"Are you all right?" the viera asked coolly, holding out a hand to help her up.

The touch of her long fingers and claw-hard nails reminded Daina of Fran, but when Daina straightened, she saw a mocha-skinned woman with loose silver hair and armor the delicate blue of a bird's egg. She did not have Fran's knowing, affectionate smile.

"I'm a poor tank. We needed a man in armor," she said, only half joking. The decoy spell faded, taking some of her tension with it.

"Yes," the viera agreed, but Daina knew that all viera fresh out of Golmore Jungle were as candid and uncaring of the feelings of others, so she wasn't offended. The viera searched the carcass and came up with a torn and stained haversack. "You have earned your bounty, hunter. I thank you."

"Are you returning to Balfonheim?" Daina asked.

"For now." The viera rummaged in her sack, finding a dragon scale stuck to one of the straps. She inspected it, and then added it to the money she then passed over to Daina. "The port is quiet. Many of the pirates flocked to the floating island some weeks past and do not return."

"Lemurés?"

"Yes. You have heard of it?" At Daina's nod, she gave something very like a shrug. " 'Purvama, the floating lands. In the border-skies they wait. Untrodden, unknown. There sleeps like eternal.' It is of no interest to me, as I told Rikken. I prefer to stay here rather than take part in his noisy games. The aegyl's concerns are none of mine."

"You know Rikken?" Daina felt like she was pressing her luck with her questions, but the viera seemed inclined to talk.

"I have spoken with him. He used to spend much time at the Whitecap, but he is here no longer. He has gone to Lemurés to organize a tournament. The sky pirate who collects the most auracite wins. Wins _what_, he never said."

Daina didn't like this piece of information. According to the viera, Rikken, who she had counted on to help control the pirates, was in fact the one goading them into action. Unless she could find a way to Lemurés, there was no hope of confronting him.

A brief stop at the Hunter's Camp in Phon Coast brought her further news. She joined a band of hunters, ordered a pint of ale, and since she was one of them, they spoke to her freely.

"Maybe I should become an ardent," Daina said lightly, treating her questions like a joke. "It seems I know the right people to talk to in order to get correct information. I had heard the aegyl and the sky pirates were working together."

"Not likely!" a robust hume laughed. He sobered instantly and leaned close. "The pirates are blinded by treasure-fever, and are killing the aegyl on Lemurés in their quest for the stones. It's an extermination, like."

"What? That's terrible!" she exclaimed. The others raised their pint glasses in agreement.

Troubled, Daina took a swig of her ale. Rikken, she hoped, was under thrall to the Judge of Wings and not working of his own volition. If he _was_ in control of his faculties, then she did not think even Larsa could keep him out of Nalbina's dungeon.

Following another mark, she got as far southwest as the Salikawood, but could go no farther. The aegyl, she found, had been spurred into seeking revenge, and had descended on the Babbling Vale camp in the Mosphoran Highwaste, slaughtering sky pirates and anyone else that happened to be nearby.

Daina couldn't believe her ears. The research on the aegyl had said they were slow to show any emotion. Something must have changed them, for the people of Ivalice spoke of them as vengeful, angry, and merciless.

"And that's not all, kupo," a member of the Cartographer's Guild told her, pompon drooping sadly. He sported a bandage across his black nose that flattened his whiskers, making his eyes look bigger and more pathetic than Daina thought possible. "It's not an isolated incident. They're attacking all of the Dalmascan trade routes. Utterly disrupted, kupo. No one's getting in or out of Rabanastre or Nalbina Town. The nomads are all in hiding. We can't reach the Ambervale or Mt. Bur-Omisace. There's nothing a poor moogle like me can do, kupo, except keep my ears down and my paws clean."

The war, if that was truly the intent of the Judge of Wings, had begun.

Daina feared that her absence had gone on long enough, but before she escaped to the Cave Palace she got sucked into several skirmishes between pirates, yarhi, and the majestic aegyl, who screamed their hatred of the "underworld" as they attacked. In spite of their looks, for they in truth did look like beautiful humes with wings feathered in the shades of their hair, they were so alien there was no reasoning with them. However, Daina could not bring herself to kill them. This wasn't like fighting the Empire for Dalmasca's freedom. The aegyl had been provoked, their lands invaded first; it was impossible to know who was right when everyone was behaving wrongly.

More than once, she fled the battles, cursing her cowardice. The spires and air traffic of Archades had never looked as welcoming to her as they did the day she returned home.

The people of Archades saw nothing but a dirty, coarse, and armed adventurer when she finally emerged from Old Town, and gave her a wide berth. They looked at her askance once she reached Central, but no one cared enough to stop her. Grateful for the apathy of her fellow nobles, Daina slipped unseen into her apartments.

The butler met her at the door, assisting her out of her sword harness and her pack, heavy with the gil from the last hunt.

"Is the judge magister within?"

"No, My Lady. He has not returned."

"I see." Too weary for anything but a sigh, she then asked, "Where is Sera?"

"She is on an errand," Ehrlichman said with a bow.

Daina thought nothing of this. She was aware that even when the masters were not at home, the servants must complete plenty of work to keep their home running.

"Please send her to me as soon as she returns," she ordered. She moved toward the offices, undoing her braid and running her fingers through her hair, aware that Erhlichman would find a place for her things and send some of the house girls with refreshment.

They came with much more than tea and sandwiches. Daina groaned inwardly at the fat stack of envelopes and cards that arrived with the tray.

She took off her mailed gloves, stiff with sweat, blood, and dirt, and touched the wargod's band on her finger, thinking of Basch. The ladies of the High Arcade had all exclaimed in glee over the ring, for it was unusual both in metal and design. In Nabradia, the wargod's band had symbolized passionate love from afar. She wished it wasn't quite so literal in this case, and that her husband was home.

Longingly, Daina eyed the leather folder of notes she'd compiled in the last half week, but knew that her duties as a judge's wife came first. Washing her hands and pouring herself a cup of tea, she selected a sandwich and began sorting through the mail. Among the cards her visitors had left she found Lady Cassady's – no surprise there – and the names of several other wives or their daughters, as well as one or two gentlemen that she assumed wished to court her husband's favor through her. All of these people, she must visit in return. She checked her calendar and put the visits in order. Sera would double-check her arrangements later. Then, she turned her attention to the envelopes.

When about half of the letters had been answered, her RSVP to one ball and several dinner parties sealed, and the beginnings of her own gathering in the planning stages, the sandwiches were gone, the tea was cold, and Daina was fast asleep with her head on her arms.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Wow! Check me out, updating twice in two days. I'm pleased with myself . . . I feel like I'm getting back into the swing of things here. I actually wanted to make this chapter quite a bit longer, but decided to save what happens next for its own chapter. I can only hope I do it justice. X3_

_I need to apologize to everyone who has already read and reviewed the last chapter at the time of this update: I forgot one very (tiny) important fact. The _Leviathan_ is in fact Queen Ashe's flagship, even though it belongs to the Empire. I think Gabranth can still command her, but yeah, since it's part of the Revenant Wings plot . . . This has been fixed, so new readers shouldn't notice._

_Reviewer Thanks__! _**_Darwin _**_(If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! Since this is a fanfic, I won't care as much about fixing confusing parts or refreshing memories, lol), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(the ladies call Daina by her maiden name because she can't take the name of a dead man, basically. This is what was in the second chapter as a little refresher: [Traces of Noah still remained, such as the fact that Daina could no longer call Basch by his real name. She had not even taken the name __fon Ronsenburg_, preferring to stick with her father's name. ] I know it's been FOREVER since that got posted, sorry about that. I hope you're having fun camping!), **_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(Thank you so much, my friend!), and _**_Persephone Falling _**_(gosh, you make some good observations - you actually helped me formulate and write this chapter! Thank you! Yeah, the Judge of Wings is from Revenant Wings. I haven't played it, either, but all of the events in FaMP take place during RW)._

_Thank you for reading and reviewing, from the bottom of my spazztastic little heart. My love,_

___Anne_  



	9. Baubles and Banditry

"Lady Praeities, please wake up. The emperor has summoned you."

Awareness rushed through her, and everything hurt; she was hunched awkwardly over her desk, its edge cutting off the blood flow to her hands. She lifted eyelids stiff as shutters. The upper housekeeper held out a salver to her.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Daina picked up the card. It was from Larsa and simply said, "Your presence is required at your earliest convenience."

Daina frowned at it. That wasn't like Larsa at all. She looked around. Two other housemaids stood ready with her bathrobe and towels. Her clock told her it was an hour past dinnertime. "Davine, where is Sera?"

"She has not returned, My Lady," the upper housekeeper said. She was a grandmotherly figure, not easily ruffled, but she seemed worried now. "This morning, she stepped down to see her mother, who is confined in her tenth lying-in. We expected her back hours ago, so I took the liberty of sending some of the boys after her. None of the family are home. In truth, all of Old Archades seems deserted, so we have widened the search."

"Sera's _missing_?" Daina stood up so fast she overturned her chair. "We have to find her –"

"Lady Praeities." Davine grabbed her shoulders. The breach of propriety was enough to stop Daina cold. "Please, leave Sera's plight to Erhlichman. I am sure nothing untoward has happened. We will find her. For now, you must obey the summons. Lord Chamberlain is waiting to escort you to the palace."

Her voice sank on the last words. A curl of ice slipped into Daina's stomach. She understood what Davine meant. It wasn't a request. This wasn't Larsa wishing to see Daina, but the highest of all judges summoning one of his subjects to a hearing.

"Of course," she said quietly. "Thank you."

* * *

The cab ride to the palace passed in silence. Daina sat in false serenity, dressed in one of the few gowns she really liked. Imitating the Dalmascan queen was the current fashion in Archades, so the two-piece gown bared her midriff and arms. It was green, almost the same shade as her old coat, and trimmed with white lace. Wearing it was like seeing a friend after many months' separation.

Her escort was none other than Larsa's chamberlain, the steward and high official of the royal court who had the management of his living quarters. No one seemed to know his real name. He was to Larsa what Sera was to her. This was serious, indeed.

Daina allowed Chamberlain to hand her down from the cab, and she paused only long enough for her skirts to settle around her ankles before she followed him into the palace, her earrings, bracelets, and waist-chain clinking. The leather folder was the only other thing she carried.

Chamberlain swept through grand hallways constructed in the modern Archadian style, all austere right angles, smooth walls, recessed lighting, central air, and softly humming lifts. According to Migelo, Vayne had once admired the whimsies of Rabanastre's Galtean-era palace; after touring this sterile building, Daina could see why.

Without a word, Chamberlain ushered Daina into the throne room, down the great, echoing length, and right up to the throne. The only light in the room came from the distant skylights overhead, admitting the last glow from the setting sun, which struck the floor in a sunburst array, radiating out from the foot of the throne. There, Chamberlain bowed to Larsa and took his place slightly behind the emperor's seat.

Larsa sat in the throne that was still too big for him, hands clasped in his lap, back straight, ankles crossed, and flanked by two greater judges unknown to her. When cast in such a serious setting, the boy-emperor was chillingly pretty. Solidor had been a handsome family.

Daina knelt in a pool of leaf-green fabric, one fist resting on the floor, bowing her head. It was a knight's obeisance, not a lady's, but old habits die hard. "I am come, Excellency."

"Lady Praeities," one of the judges said. She heard rustling paper. "You have been called here to answer for your activities over the past week, and to explain your intent. This morning, after your return, sky pirates attacked Old Archades. We have since determined their point of entry is a door that connects the city with the Sochen Cave Palace, of which you already know."

Daina's mouth dried out. A pirate attack in Old Archades! How had the pirates learned of Balthier's rabbit hole?

The answer was easy. She had been followed, but when she used the teleport crystal to reach Central, the bandits had gone on past it through the stone door, which had stood unlocked for over a year.

She raised her head, but couldn't see Larsa's eyes. It finally occurred to her that she was being accused of treason.

"Last week," she said slowly, "when My Lord Gabranth was sent on his errand to Balfonheim, it was decided that he should go alone. The next day, however, I heard some disturbing news that led me to believe that the trouble concerning the sky pirates and the yarhi was greater than first believed. As a former Knight of Dalmasca, I have valuable connections in the Hunter's Camp and with the founder of Clan Centurio out of Rabanastre. Since Archades was locked down the day after Lord Gabranth's departure, I sought the aid of my fellow hunters."

She presented her folder, and the second judge took it. Then, she proceeded to tell them about the last few days, answering their questions, repeating all that she had heard and seen. She even explained her prior knowledge of the secret entrance into Archades, careful to leave out the name of he from whom she'd learned of it. Any awareness of the pirates who had followed her, she disclaimed.

At last, the judge signaled her to cease and offered her notes to Larsa.

Larsa, Chamberlain, and the judges conferred in low voices, which the acoustics of the room swallowed before they reached Daina. She waited, fists clenched in the folds of her skirt.

"Full acquittal," were the first and only words she distinguished.

The judges wrapped up their own notes, bowed to the emperor, and took their leave.

Larsa hopped off the throne, clasping his hands behind his back. Chamberlain, with a gracious smile, moved to open the doors for him, Daina's folder tucked under his arm.

"Lady Praeities, please come with me," Larsa said, his small face grave. "There is still much we need to discuss."

* * *

"I had to allow the hearing to quell any doubt about your loyalties. A woman of Nabradia, who migrated to Dalmasca before the war – really! Must I insist that you swear your oaths in front of the Senate? Why did you not come forward with this earlier?" Larsa asked, exasperated. Now that they were alone, Chamberlain having retreated with the promise of refreshment, Larsa's natural precociousness was reasserting itself.

"I thought that if I had, you would forbid me from further involvement."

"You thought right," he said, waiting for the doors to one of his private offices to whoosh open. "You shouldn't be running off on your own."

"I remember a time when you didn't take your own advice so well," she said

He laughed up at her. "It's very unfair of you to bring the truth to your defense."

Stepping into the office was like entering a hanging garden, redolent of fresh night air. It was open to the sky, one side closed in by a tall colonnade and waist-high latticework fence, the other three sides, a bas relief arcade. Half the floor was constructed of pretty marble tiles patterned in white and copper, the other half sunken in a deep, turquoise pool, kept full by waterfalls spaced evenly over the columns. A riot of greenery spilled from the roof, offering shade on hot summer days. Evening had fallen, however, and the lamps standing against the solid walls were lit. Beyond the colonnade, the earthbound stars of Archades's skyscrapers shone with a brilliance that rivaled the sky above.

Larsa moved to his gleaming conference table and took a seat in one of the green leather chairs. Daina followed him, but remained standing.

"Here is someone who has been very anxious to see you." Larsa stood again as the door opened and Chamberlain ushered in a very pale Sera.

Sera, once she saw who was waiting for her, sank into a curtsey from which she did not straighten. Servants laid the table for a late supper. While Chamberlain seated Daina, Larsa himself pulled out a chair for Sera.

"You see?" he said to her. "Lady Daina is here, safe. Please join us. I have been told that you have chosen not to eat today, and I cannot bear the thought of sending you away hungry."

Two spots of red burned in Sera's otherwise white face, one on each cheekbone. She said nothing, as if determined to give no quarter to someone who had threatened her mistress and was her lord and emperor both. However, she hadn't counted on Larsa's earnestness and the chivalry to which he had been bred that had won him Penelo's friendship. He marched right up to her.

Even though two years younger, he was taller than she was. He took her hands and lifted her from the floor, guiding her to the table. Sera could do no otherwise than sit.

"There," he said, blue eyes sparkling. "Now, though we cannot all talk, we can all eat."

At last, she lifted her eyes to his face, her flattered heart shining there.

"Forgive her, Lord Larsa," Daina said. "She has proven her loyalty and discretion far beyond my expectations, and her silence is something I demanded of her. The only reason she felt the need to carry it so far is because of my insistence and imperfect instructions."

Sera went, if possible, even paler than before. Larsa gave Daina an arch smile, and left Sera to compose herself over her plate.

"Now, to the business at hand," he said. The moon and lamplight shone on black hair sleek as a bird's wing. "Our assumption that the aegyl were native to Lemurés has proven incorrect. The details of their origins in Ivalice have been difficult to obtain, but this was the errand for which I dispatched Gabranth."

"You have heard from him, then?"

"Yes. Your reports coincide on many points, but not all. The occuria, the undying beings who named themselves gods, ruled over Ivalice and guided the fate of man. Of this we are agreed?"

Daina, in the process of forcing a glass of Bhujerban madhu on Sera to restore her nerves, frowned at Larsa, a thousand feelings welling up at the mention of the occuria, those terrible, cruel, flame-eyed beings that had sought to use Lady Ashe to their own ends. Their callous use of Prince Rasler's memory still rankled. "We are."

"In traveling to Lemurés, Gabranth has uncovered some of the aegyl's past, and it seems the occuria's hands were not idle. They sought to control and guide the aegyl as well as the other races of Ivalice, but the aegyl would not be ruled. They escaped to Lemurés. Angered, the occuria used the Mist in the skystone of Lemurés to entrap them. Over time, the aegyl swore off all lands excepting Lemurés, and so they faded from our history's weave."

"They gloried in their exile, and yet they claim rights to Ivalice now?" Daina asked skeptically. She sat back, satisfied when Sera swallowed the chief of the wine and a flush put healthier color in her white face. "It seems more than revenge. It seems like an invasion.

"But, Sera," she continued, turning to the girl, "what happened? Are you all right?"

Sera's lips moved, but she was so far from comfortable speaking in the emperor's presence that only the words "my mother," "pirates," and "apology" were discernible.

Larsa took pity on her. "The guards at the bridge raised the alarm soon after the pirates arrived. We evacuated the citizens as swiftly as possible and quelled the disturbance. It was my wish that the news of the attack spread no farther than it must. Miss Farron, worried for your safety, first brought the news of your absence to us. We weren't able to get any more out of her than that, however. Her family is safe and under my care for the time being."

Under the table, Daina reached over, found one of Sera's hands, and squeezed it. "I am the one who is sorry," she said. "I promised to protect you. A fine mess I made of that."

For a few minutes, there was no sound except the clink of forks on plates. Daina, not hungry, watched the water rippling in the pool.

Eventually, Larsa took up the thread of conversation again. "The pirates are emboldened by the yarhi they command. That is why we must discover all that we can to stop this new war that threatens the peace we fought so hard to obtain, and so I have an errand for you."

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Gosh darn it, I'd hoped to finish this a lot sooner so that I'd have time to leave reviews this evening, but I'm out of time. *shakes fist at clock* I promise, friends, to leave them in the morning!_

_This chapter was hard for me to write. I wanted to do justice to how cute Larsa can be! He's a lot of fun to write, but transitional chapters are never easy. I hope this came out okay!_

_Reviewer Thanks__! _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(D'awww, thanks! I like how you always pick up on the subtle things I put in), _**_Darwin _**_(once again and as always, THANK YOU. I'll try not to be such a butthead in the future, chica. *hugs*), and_**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(Thanks!__)._

_____Anne_  



	10. The Creature Collector

After two days, Daina found herself thinking longingly of the insecure seeq as a companion.

She'd been wrong. _Scientists_ were the worst people to take into the field. They got thoroughly overexcited about things like the weather or soil consistency, and groused (loudly and frequently) over the pace Daina set, for she never let them linger for more than a night in any location. When hunting a mark, one must go where the mark goes, she pointed out with increasing impatience. Gathering minute data from the Tchita Uplands wasn't going to capture any yarhi in the Estersand.

And that, of course, was Larsa's errand. Bring a few specimens back for study in Draklor Laboratory. He still pronounced the name like _School for Mad Scientists_. "The more we know about them, the better chance we have of stopping this insanity," he said seriously. "I have a team assembled and ready to go at your word."

Wherever the seeq was, she hoped he had the beautiful viera wayfarer as a partner. She would be infinitely better company than Dr. fon Lugubrious over there (his real name was Joe Perry, but Sera had a rather sneaky sense of humor), who was hauling around several hundred pounds of equipment, his thick, purplish lips stuck in a permanent pout. He only opened them to complain in Daina's general direction, gently and insistently, like the rustling roll of a wave, or to reluctantly relay her orders to his staff in soft undertones. The collar of his lab coat was too tight, and his jowls hung over it, constantly a-quiver with his mumbled complaints.

"He's like a basset hound," Sera said. She shook out the tablecloth, which snapped like a flag in the wind, before deftly folding it over her arm. "The way he lumbers about as if everything was the biggest bother in the world. Lazy, that's what my mother would say. Malcontent. Did someone cast a gravity spell on his mouth? It sags to his knees, I swear."

Daina finished her tea standing, since the chair had already been folded and packed away, hoping the tannic acid would help settle her stomach. She hadn't been feeling well since the night before. Although she'd been famished that morning, her eggs and toast weren't agreeing with her. "That's not very nice, Sera," she murmured, smiling into the cup in spite of herself.

"You'd think he'd be more grateful," Sera said, now busily dismantling the table, working efficiently around her lady. The caravan was breaking camp on a misty morning in the Salikawood. They still had a long way to go.

"I understand you," Daina said. She'd been thinking much the same thing. Apparently, Dr. fon Lugubrious and his team had been chomping at the bit like penned chocobos for a chance to study the yarhi. The only reason they were here at all was because Daina had chosen to accept the mission, and she carried an injunction from the emperor to force passage through the routes closed to civilians. She could distinguish yarhi in a pack of Ivalice's beasts, and had the ability to protect the scientists while they attempted to capture the yarhi alive. Or whatever passed as "alive" with the illusory Mist-beasts. Without her, they'd still be holed up in Draklor, memorizing the snippets of information trickling out of Lemurés, tapping uselessly at their keyboards.

"Really, would it kill him to show a little more respect?" Sera went on, oblivious to the fact that the doctor in question had finished packing his equipment and was approaching with the peculiar, rocking gait that made his jowls sway like a basset's long ears. Daina tried to signal to her, but Sera wasn't paying attention. She gathered up the tray with the remains of Daina's breakfast. "The way he calls you _Miss_. You're a _married woman_. It's insulting! As if Lord Larsa didn't know what he was doing when he appointed leadership to you."

She blushed as she said it, keeping her eyes determinedly on her work. Daina felt a flash of amusement and sympathy for her handmaid, who was, after a single meeting, well on her way to a crush on the young emperor.

"He could be a little more cooperative –"

"Just what exactly do you believe I need to improve in my cooperation, Miss Farron?" Dr. Perry asked, fixing droopy basset hound eyes on her. The corners of his mouth pointed straight down. "I have been nothing but cooperative, often against my better judgment."

Sera jumped in surprise. Daina, in an excellent display of reflexes, rescued the china. Dr. fon Lugubrious watched this impassively, waiting for an answer.

"I think what she means, Dr. Perry, is that you obey the letter of the law, if not the spirit," Daina said, sending Sera away with a look. Mortified and only too glad to escape, Sera hastened off. Daina closed her eyes, willing the nausea away.

"Do you consider yourself the law, young lady?" he asked angrily.

The question pierced her like a lancet. Daina hadn't told anyone of Larsa's first offer. The one that would have made her a judge. The one she had instantly, instinctively refused, with something that, later, she classified as fear.

Judge. The title would put her on equal footing with Basch, but was that really what she wanted? To compete with her husband? To be thrown into another set of people who possessed far more discernment than their wives and daughters and were, therefore, far more dangerous? Or did she simply want the freedom to be herself?

"In this case I do," she told the doctor. "I represent His Excellency on this excursion, and we will soon pass out of Archadia's borders. Your well being is my responsibility. We are under a time limit, sir. By the end of the day today, we must reach the Highwaste. In no more than four days after that, we will cut into the Estersand. The greatest concentration of yarhi lies in wait there, and it is there that we will set up our base, in a place of my choosing. It is a combat zone. I cannot stress that enough. We will be in danger, and neither pirate nor yarhi will wait for you to stick them with your probes and scanners before they kill you."

"Yet you bring your handmaiden with you," he sniffed.

"Yes, because she understands that the world does not stop at a monitor screen," she said with a touch of asperity.

"We are here to _collect data_, Miss Praeities," he said. "It is an ongoing process! We are currently no closer to understanding the yarhi and their effect on the environment, and vice versa, than we were before. I, too, have been given a direct order from the emperor."

"Gather your team, Dr. Perry." Daina was tired of arguing with him, but then she swallowed and realized, with painful, blinding clarity, that she wasn't going to keep the eggs down. She had to get rid of him. Right then. "I guarantee you will get your samples, and at that point, my involvement and interference in the pursuit of science will end. You have ten minutes."

She turned and managed three normal, dignified steps before the urge to vomit reached a peak. She broke into a run, her hand clamped over her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes.

* * *

The cage clanged shut, which activated the storm magicite attached to the gate. Magickal electricity swarmed over the bars, the scanners woke up and began to hum, and the hyena trapped within yowled, shrinking from the edges of its prison. Its tail thrashed.

It sounded exactly like a real hyena. It looked no different than the hyenas that had roamed Giza Plains for centuries. It had the same short, brindled fur, the same curved horn and tusks, the same large paws. It even stank like a hyena. It could have been a hyena.

It wasn't.

Cheers erupted from the watching scientists. After five days of failure, of making minute, painstaking adjustments to their equipment, of accidents and injuries that resulted in Daina dispatching the rampaging yarhi they found and sending everyone back to the drawing board, of false alarms and one pirate attack, they had succeeded in discovering a lone yarhi, luring it out of hiding and into their improved cage. It howled again, clearly distressed.

"We've got it, sir!" a woman exclaimed excitedly. "Stats redirecting to your station now."

A flurry of scientific jargon followed, each scientist shouting out instructions or findings, seemingly with no one listening to anyone else, but Daina could see teamwork in the passing of clipboards and the huddles around single workstations. Their voices rang across the Plains, unhindered by the tent walls billowing in the wind.

Daina smiled and relaxed her stance. She'd been on the far side of a dry wadi, lying in wait in case the yarhi got too aggressive, or in case there were more of them than the sensors were picking up. They'd all learned a lot since reaching the Estersand and following the rumors south. No one had died, and Sera's quickness with potions had rectified any injuries, but Daina wasn't taking any chances.

Now, she sauntered toward the little encampment, white tents clustered around one of the towering sun crystals, ablaze with the solar power that fueled most of the workstations. A few blond-haired, brown-skinned nomad children stood well back with their sacks of sun stones, having felt the lash of Dr. Perry's tongue more than once but unable to completely curb their curiosity. They grinned and waved at her, and she waved back.

The yakei and iga blade tapped against the backs of her thighs. Rocky sand crunched beneath her boots. She yawned. Ignored by the busy scientists, she wove through their makeshift desks and the cables snaking every which way across the tarpaulin floor until she found the refrigeration unit. It was buried beneath a growing pile of paper spewing out of a printer, which she shifted aside in order to help herself to a bottle of water.

She hadn't felt sick since the incident with the eggs, which she was now avoiding, but she was exhausted. She often slept through the heat of midday.

Even now, as she stretched languorously, she contemplated returning to her cot for a second nap. She was just so _tired_.

"They did a good job today," Sera said when Daina entered their tent. Her black hair was piled on her head nomad-fashion, a pretty tortoiseshell comb given to her by Nanau, one of the women of the nomad camp, thrust through the shining tresses. She wiped sweat off her neck with a handkerchief.

Daina flopped into a chair and started searching through a bag of fruit. She selected an apple. "Yes. Things will get easier from here on. With the data they compile today, we should be able to collect five or six more samples for transport to Draklor. Now that Dr. fon Lugubrious has perfected his radar, he and the others won't need my help distinguishing yarhi from a beast of Ivalice. They'll be able to send scouting teams out without me."

"That's good." Sera sounded subdued, as if her mind was elsewhere. Perhaps she was just hot. Daina sure was.

Daina yawned again, covering her mouth with the half-eaten apple. "I don't understand why I'm so tired," she grumbled. "The heat must be getting to me."

"Well, yes, that's really no surprise." Sera also sat, her sunburned brow creased. "You shouldn't be exerting yourself so much out here. I'll be relieved when we go home."

Daina raised her eyebrows at her. "Exerting myself? What's that supposed to mean? I haven't done much except sleep the last two days."

"My Lady," Sera said, with a sort of exasperated, affectionate smile, "do you expect anything more of someone in your condition?"

"In my _condition_?" Daina sat up. "What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with me."

The look on Sera's face might have been funny if Daina didn't feel like she was about to hear something she wasn't going to like.

"But – My Lady –" Sera stopped, and then tried again. "I mean, I assumed –" Her blue eyes met Daina's green. It was hard to say which of them was more upset. She spoke softly, as if in a sick chamber. "I've seen it often enough with my mother, with ten of us and me the eldest. There are always signs, even though each time is different."

Daina waited.

"Do you not know that you're pregnant?"

* * *

"That's not possible," Daina had said flatly.

But of course it was. There was nothing wrong with her, not in that way, nor with Basch.

She'd laughed herself to sleep on a pillow wet with tears. It just wasn't possible. Was it?

Was she pregnant? Was she going to have a baby?

"It's still early," Sera had said into the ringing silence of the tent. To Daina, it was as if the encampment had been engulfed in silencega. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing in her ears like white noise. "Four or five weeks at most. I could be wrong."

She wasn't wrong. Daina's body knew it in the way her muscles retained the lessons in swordsmanship given to her by her father.

She was pregnant.

Did she want a baby?

Over the next week or so, while Dr. Perry collected more Mist-creatures and the sheets of data continued to belch out of the printer, Daina caught herself massaging her belly, but her fingers never found the slightest difference. The differences were elsewhere. Her initial sleeplessness and the fatigue now. Loss of appetite. Wild mood swings, increased sense of smell. Other, private differences that she wouldn't have registered for another month. Or so Sera said.

It was like coming down with a cold. The symptoms started out insignificant and isolated, until one morning a body woke up and – bam!

She'd thought of children, but she'd thought of them as a part of her later life, after she'd _lived_ a little longer. She was only nineteen!

And Basch was nearly forty.

She dreamed he came home. She dreamed she prepared him for the news, and then told him. In her dream, the words she used didn't matter. The dream warped then, dipped, rewound, and repeated. Each time he reacted differently. There was joy, and there was fury. Confusion, disbelief, sorrow, happiness – her dream showed them all.

She woke up, and the anxiety cramping in her middle prompted her to be sick in a bucket. She cried all that day, too.

Four or five _weeks_. Her life had changed that long ago, before Basch had left Archades, neither one of them even _suspecting_ as they went on with their daily lives. It felt like the gods had ripped the world out from under her and left her spinning in space. Again.

Oh, abyssal celebrant, what was she supposed to _do_?

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Hello, friends! I hope everyone's summers are going GREAT! Mine has been buuuuuusssssssyyyyy._

_It's been an interesting ride writing this story. ASftP didn't take very long (relatively speaking) because I'd begun "writing" it the first time I played the game. I had years to mull it over. This one is definitely a seat-of-my-pants type of story. Daina's little epiphany here wasn't supposed to come out until much later (I had the idea of her being airsick), but it seemed to want to be written here. I hope you like it._

_Oh, and just to say - this is NOT going to be a story of pregnancy. Except where her "situation" relates to plot conflict. I'm not going into details any more than I do for my lemon scenes. Some things just don't need to be said . . . at least by this writer. LOL._

_There may be typos and crazy things written. I apologize for my rough draft post. I just couldn't wait to come back here and let you all know I wasn't dead! T__hank you for sticking with me though my long bouts of silence._

_Reviewer Thanks__! _**_Darwin _**_(Glad you liked it!), _**_FinalAnimalMoonE _**_(LOL, I considered it! It might be an unstated romance), **ElTangoDeRoxanne**__(Why, yes they are! Good eye, as always. :) They're also taken from the hunts in the first game, because I'm a geek like that__), and **Persephone Falling** (OMG, you know, when I first wrote that chapter, I DID make her a judge. Then I changed it, because I thought that was too . . . I dunno, easy, or something. It felt like a cheat. I was kind of happy that you came to that idea too, though. LMAO)._

___I love you all, dear readers, and remain ever yours,_

___Anne_  



	11. Rendezvous Round Back

Daina crossed her arms over her middle, her elbows cupped in her hands. She tilted her head first one way, and then the other, considering the blank spot on the living room wall.

"I really think I need to do something about that," she murmured.

"What's that, My Lady?" Sera asked. She looked up from the frothy mound of fabric in her lap.

They'd been back for one day, and already life was falling into its familiar, decadent, utterly suffocating routine. At least, Daina thought so. Sera seemed as content here as she had on the Plains, as long as her hands were busy.

"The wall is too bare," Daina said. "I liked it better before."

"I see," Sera said, but she didn't, and they both knew it. "I don't suppose you'd be open to putting up a pair of portraits instead, would you? You and My Lord are a very handsome couple, if I may say so."

Daina giggled. "Flattery gets you nowhere. Although, I suppose we are a little unconventional."

"Just a little."

"Believe it or not, Sera, these _are_ our portraits," Daina said, reaching up to touch the golden sheath of Basch's sword.

"Yes, My Lady," Sera said. She went back to her work.

Daina strode into her bedroom, collected the yakei, which she had cleaned, polished, and sharpened, and stroked the green tassel. The silken, ropy strands flowed through her fingers, surprisingly heavy. She checked the sheath's fit, ensuring the oiled blade slid smoothly in and out. Then, she took it to the living room and placed it back on its hooks so that it hung once more with its partner. She stepped back.

It was as if she'd never left. The yakei was an ornament once more, but this time, she could be proud of what the katana stood for without needing the whole world to know it, too. That chapter of her life was over. She would never forget, but it was time to turn the page.

"Do you feel better now?" Sera asked softly.

Daina eyed her, wary of her reaction. "I have a lot of gil saved. I'm going to buy a new sword."

To her astonishment, Sera merely nodded and went back to tailoring Daina's latest gown. "I thought as much," she said.

"You have the advantage of me." Daina grinned. "I thought you'd fuss, honestly."

Sera crinkled her sunburned nose, her needle flashing. Gravely, she said, "Something's coming, isn't it? There's another war on. Our peace lasted only a moment, and I find that I cannot accept it. The Empire must respond. You'll need to be ready to help. His Excellency is counting on you."

"Sera . . ."

"I owe you an apology, My Lady," Sera said. Her hands stilled, her eyes downcast, black lashes resting against her cheeks. "For what I said to you earlier. I didn't understand what swords and hunts had to do with a lady, because I didn't understand what they had to do with _you_." She lifted her eyes. "I understand now, and I'm sorry."

"Sera." Daina struggled for words, and then gave up with a grin. She'd never been very eloquent. "Thank you."

"That doesn't mean you're off the hook, My Lady," Sera said with a sniff, but her dimples gave her away. Her needle leapt in and out of the fabric in her lap, a tiny silver fish swimming in a purple sea. "We're due to take tea with Lady Cassady this afternoon, and there's the Weyson affair this evening. If you're going to buy your sword, you'd better go now. I can spare you for an hour."

"Thank you!" In highest glee, Daina swooped down on her handmaid and hugged her. The sound of two girls laughing filled the apartments and made the upper housekeeper and butler, going about their duties in separate rooms, smile.

* * *

As she had expected, the masamune was perfection.

The blade, longer than should be possible, danced and flicked through the air effortlessly. The suede grip molded to her palm. It was, truly, a thing of beauty.

Zargabaath had been surprised by her application for an audience, but he'd agreed to it. Her request was a simple one: Was there somewhere that she could practice her swordsmanship out of the view of the public eye? Somewhere she wouldn't get in the way of the soldiers?

When he'd brought her to the hall reserved for judge magisters, she'd thanked him with a glowing face. This place was exactly what she needed. Slightly bemused, for Daina had not spoken directly with him since the peace negotiations in Rabanastre, he'd left her there with a card key that he said she could keep for future use.

A fierce grin pulled at her lips and she moved faster, battling an imaginary enemy down the length of the quiet hall, dodging training equipment and machines. Straw dummies watched her impassively, but her shadow, split into countless undefined shards by the overhead lights, framed her in a heaving army.

She didn't hear anyone approach over the sound of her own breathing and the smack of her boots against the marble flooring, but she would have heard Basch's voice at the bottom of the sea.

" 'A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.' "

Sweat stung her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of her wrist, trying to catch her breath.

He stood at the far end of the hall, a tall figure in black. Basch reached up and removed his horned helm. " 'Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,' " he said, still quoting, his low, rough voice sending a shiver through her the way it always did. " 'Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways / Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all / Some shape of beauty moves away the pall / from our dark spirits.' "

"Are you –" she paused to fetch breath – "referring to the sword or to me?"

"I would have thought that returning to you after what I did while you held a blade in your hand would spell my name on a gravestone," he said. His amber eyes were locked on her face in a way that made her heart speed up again. "Now, I can't imagine anything more beautiful."

She remembered what he had said once about beauty. That, trapped within the nothingness of an oubliette, surrounded by the ugliest and vilest of hume nature, a man withered away all the faster, body and soul. To him, beauty was life.

At his most knightly, he asked, "Am I forgiven, Lady, or shall I taste your wrath?"

Daina blinked. Why was everyone apologizing to her? She didn't deserve it. She should be the one apologizing. Everything she did, every choice she made, only seemed to cause trouble for those she loved.

Their apologies were starting to tick her off.

Her hand tightened convulsively on the masamune's hilt. She closed the gap between them.

And then she was in his arms.

She pressed herself against his armor, standing on her toes, wishing she could join him inside it. His hand tangled in her hair.

He sighed, and it was almost a groan. "Forgive me for leaving you."

"Why did you?" she demanded into his neck, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears inside.

"I wanted you with me. More than I can say." His arms constricted. "But I could not leave Lord Larsa with no one. Zargabaath has his hands full with the Senate, and I would entrust His Excellency with you sooner than all the armies of the Empire. I was afraid of saying too much, and of my crumbling resolve, and so I said far too little."

"You're an idiot," she said.

"Aye."

"No. You're an idiot because that is a perfectly good reason, and I am an idiot for admitting it," she said. She finally relaxed her grip from around his neck, slid back down until her feet touched the floor. He was really here. He was home, and they were together. Nothing else mattered. "I forgave you a long time ago."

"Then why do you cry?" he asked gently. He cupped her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

Her lips parted.

This was it. Now was the time to tell him.

Daina looked at him, her heart tearing in two. Because she couldn't say it. Her dream came back to her, as vivid as if it was truth. What if he was angry with her? What if all the love and concern she saw now in his face was replaced with fury and condemnation? What if he rejected her?

Could she live without air to breathe?

She shook her head, unable to speak.

"I've been told of the hearing," he said, his low voice going rougher. "That must have been a terrible ordeal."

He didn't understand at all. Then again, how could he? She leaned forward and hid her face against his armored chest, the masamune sagging in her grip.

Since it was easier to let him come to his own conclusions about her behavior this month past, she said nothing to enlighten him. She really was a despicable coward.

She would tell him. There would come a day when deception was no longer possible. But, until then, her secret was her own, and the unborn child's. His child's.

She still had time.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Oh, lookie! Anne's posting again!_

_My gratitude to John Keats and his poem "Endymion."_

_Next chapter I'm finally transitioning into the direct storyline of Revenant Wings. Whee!_

_Reviewer Thanks__! _**_ElTangoDeRoxanne _**_(Update, check! Is it terrible to admit I haven't decided how Basch is going to react yet? LOL), and _**_Darwin _**_(HEE, I'm glad you're happy for her! Somebody needs to be. She's such a silly girl__)._

___Until next time,_

___Anne_


	12. Eve of Adventure

The lights of Rabanastre shimmered on the horizon. As Daina watched, they winked out one by one, washed from view by the strengthening light of dawn.

The new-launched _Leviathan_ was more luxurious than its predecessor. Its glossair engines ran silently, and it flew so smoothly that Daina fancied she was still on the ground. Her stateroom looked out over the bridge. Crew stations glowed with eldritch blue light, reflecting off white crew uniforms. She sang to herself as she extended the blinds and dressed.

As one of the emperor's – what was she now? A bodyguard? She was a law student applicant, at any rate. The insignia on the back of her new black coat, the red judge-sal scales that represented the Ministry of Law, matched the emblem on Basch's cape.

She drew the zipper of the long sleeved coat up to her neck, and fastened the buckles under her breasts. The coat fluttered loose to mid-thigh. At her preference, she wore a pair of black shorts for freedom of movement.

She was under orders to stay by Larsa's side at all times. While she snapped the buckles of her black boots around her calves, the intercom buzzed.

Sera answered it. Daina stood up and slung the masamune's belt around her hips.

"Party approaching from the south. His Excellency has requested debarkation."

"Lady Daina will be down in a moment." Sera took her finger off the touchpad.

"I'm ready now." Daina checked the security of her sword belt, the fit of the coat across her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Dalmascan air – she longed to taste it unfiltered by the ship. "Let's go."

Sera, who had opened the door for her lady, balked where the navy carpet of the stateroom met the smooth, white expanse of the hallway. She lifted wary blue eyes. "There's no need for me to come, My Lady."

"Of course you're coming. Don't be ridiculous," Daina said.

Sera shook her head: _No_.

"Yes." Daina grinned. "I want you to meet my friends."

"There's nothing a handmaid like me has to do with friends of yours, My Lady. They are Dalmascan heroes, are they not?" Sera said.

Daina made a noise somewhere between an exasperated snort and a wry laugh. This disagreement had been going on since Basch and Queen Ashe left the _Leviathan_ to meet up with Vaan and the others. "They're sky pirates, Sera. If anything, _you_ outrank _them_."

Sera muttered something that sounded like, "Ruffians! Not fit for a lady."

"Yes, only one of the ruffians is a queen," Larsa said from the doorway. "Hardly proper company."

Daina shushed him, but Sera blanched. She hadn't noticed his approach. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, and he looked between them expectantly.

"Whose side are you on, Excellency?" Daina complained. "You keep that up, and she's never going to get off this ship again."

He smiled sweetly, a scion of light descended from the heavens and full of mischief. "If she remains here, I shall choose to think that she is avoiding me. Is this an intentional affront, Lady Praeities?"

"Your Excellency!" Sera exclaimed, aghast. "No – that's not –"

"Then it's settled," he said cheerfully. He took her hand and pulled it through the bend of his elbow. "Come. I believe I'm not allowed anywhere without my cortege, and I have just made you part of it. Now that we must both keep up appearances, it's only proper that we do so in step."

Sera went crimson.

"You're a crook, Excellency," Daina said with a sigh.

His laughter pealed down the corridor.

* * *

Daina heard Vaan first, loud and frank. "Funny place for a meeting."

She squinted into the desert sunlight, but couldn't see him or the others yet. Only their voices carried on the hot, still air.

"A meeting in the city would draw too much attention," Basch explained mildly. As Larsa, Daina, and Sera waited, he came out from behind a dune.

Balthier, cocky, rangy, and immaculately dressed, put his hands on his narrow hips. "There are precious few places this airship wouldn't draw attention," he said, nodding at the _Leviathan_, moored to the sands and glistening in the sun. None of them had yet seen the three humes grouped in its massive shadow.

Sera let out a tiny gasp at the sky pirate's Archadian drawl.

Balthier turned back to Basch and Vaan and shrugged. He lifted one arm and pointed, not at _Leviathan_, but at a dune off to his left. "Our first visitors have already arrived."

"Sky pirates? Here?" A rasp of mythril; still out of sight, Ashe must have drawn her sword.

Diana reacted immediately. She drew the masamune and ordered Larsa and Sera to step back as a pirate mage conjured a pack of yarhi on the dune's crest.

Basch moved even faster. He skirted his suddenly battling comrades and put himself between the yarhi and the young emperor, but he needn't have worried. The others quelled the disturbance relatively easily, destroying the pirates' auracite and capturing the bandits. They regrouped, discussing the attack matter-of-factly.

They had not been idle these past weeks.

Basch sheathed his sword. "This way, Excellency."

With Sera trailing behind, Daina and Larsa joined Basch, who led them forward. At his words, everyone stopped talking at once.

"It's been far too long," Larsa said warmly, smiling around at them all.

"Larsa!" Penelo cried. She danced forward, her braids and bangles bouncing, her whole face alight. "Daina!"

"This is the last place I expected to see you," Vaan said at the same time.

He held out his fist, and Daina bumped hers into it. Just like old times. He grinned.

"When I heard you'd all be gathered in one place, I couldn't resist," Larsa said. The friends broke apart, giving the boy emperor their attention. "And the situation before us is more dire than you might know. I trust you're all familiar with the person calling herself the Judge of Wings?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Vaan said, running his fingers through his blond hair. "We're trying to find her."

Basch sighed. "Her choice of the title 'judge' has done little to improve people's opinion of the Empire."

They were all speaking as if they'd never been apart, slipping effortlessly back into their old roles. Once upon a time, each one of them had implicitly trusted the others with his or her life. Bonds like that, Daina realized, never weakened.

Sera drank in the scene with naked disbelief in her eyes, her mouth slightly open. No one seemed to have seen her skulking in the background, and Daina thought it kinder to let her remain an unknown for the moment. There would be plenty of time for introductions later.

"She's been staging attacks throughout Ivalice," Larsa was saying. "We must act quickly."

"If we can stop her, we stop the attacks," Ashe added.

"What's more, we cannot simply leave the yarhi she's using in these attacks to wander freely." Larsa gestured at Daina. "I am kept apprised of their deployment and movement."

She gave a brief overview of Draklor's involvement, and her friends all nodded.

"I want you to help us eradicate them," Larsa finished.

"No problem!" Vaan said instantly, without asking consent from the others. Daina giggled. No, some things never changed.

"Do you suppose we might continue this conversation inside?" Balthier interrupted, abrupt and curt.

Everyone looked at him.

He raised a honey-brown eyebrow. "Such a fine assemblage of personages is like to draw even more unwanted attention than this ship."

There was a moment of silence while everyone digested this. Balthier smirked.

"Where do you propose to move our meeting?" Daina asked.

"Come on," Vaan said. "I've got just the place."

The group headed south until they reached what Daina took to be a derelict airship. It was of a design she'd never seen before, completely alien. Ashe crossed her arms over her middle and fixed Vaan with a cool gray stare.

"This is the ship that landed outside of Rabanastre, yes? When it left, we weren't sure where it had gone. And we were more than a little surprised to learn you were aboard."

Vaan grinned sheepishly. "You're not upset about that, are you?"

"What do you think?" she asked tartly.

He backed up several steps. "I think I'd better apologize and get it over with."

"Well, I'm grateful it was you." Ashe sighed. "We'd have had little hope of securing the help of some other sky pirate so amicably."

As soon as Ashe ascended the gangplank, Penelo latched onto Vaan's muscled arm and hissed, "Remember, Ashe is queen now, Vaan. Queen! You have to watch how you talk around her. Try to show her some respect for once, okay?"

"When haven't I?" he asked, offended.

"Would it have killed you to call her 'Your Highness' or 'Majesty' for once?"

Still arguing, the pair led the rest of them aboard.

Moments later, the ship, lacking skystone and every other means of propulsion currently known in Ivalice, lifted from its moorings and rose into the blue sky.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Okay, so two relatively short chapters in a row. I discovered something interesting in writing this chapter (which was reaching upwards of five thousand words). The dialogue in Revenant Wings isn't natural - it doesn't flow at all. Vaan runs around and talks to people individually, and they reveal snippets of information, often repeating themselves and jumping subjects like playing tic tac toe. So, in my attempt to force some flow into the conversations, I started cutting and pasting from all over the place in the script. Those familiar with the game will probably notice this, so I hope it reads all right._

_I also realized that there is a LOT happening in the game I haven't been able to show from Daina's POV, so I cut this chapter short in order to make the next one the . . . info dump. But I tried not to make it an info dump. LOL._

_At any rate, the gang is all back together again, and then some! I had forgotten how difficult it is to corral seven main characters . . ._

_Reviewer Thanks__! **Darwin **__(Yeah, I had to check "for ever" too, but apparently it's just us Americans that make it one word, so in the original poem it is indeed two. I'm glad you liked the chapter!), and **ElTangoDeRoxanne **__(Yeah, she's just digging herself a hole, isn't she? *sighs* And I'm so glad I decided to do this - I really enjoy all the little asides and jokes and character exploration in RW!__)._

___Forever yours,_

___Anne_


	13. Old Legends, Decaying Bonds

Basch caught Vaan staring at him, the boy's sun-browned face screwed up as if he was trying to work out a particularly difficult problem in his head. Once out of Archades, Basch had discarded Gabranth's helm, although he had not removed the armor. It was part of who he was, as the Sword of the Order had been, not long ago.

"What ails you, Vaan?" he asked at last with a chuckle.

"So, what are we supposed to call you now? Judge Magister?"

"What do you want to call me?"

Vaan lifted his shoulders and then let them drop. "You'll always be just 'Basch' to me."

"Then you have your answer," Basch said solemnly, but Daina, walking by his side, could see the gratitude burning in his amber eyes. She smiled to herself.

"Right! Thanks, Basch!" Vaan ran on ahead, eager to show off his ship.

"Right," Basch murmured.

Daina took his hand, and he smiled faintly before returning the pressure of her fingers.

"The queen of Dalmasca and a judge magister. Quite a fine mess Ivalice must be in to bring them here," Balthier scoffed as they filed into a common room of sorts. This looked like a place for the ship's passengers to gather, to read or play games on a table whose surface was streaked with dust, as if hurriedly and imperfectly wiped down. In fact, a crowd of mismatched people scurried out when they arrived, joking and laughing. A squat seeq called out to Penelo, asking when lunch would be ready. She sent him off with the promise of, "Soon!"

Daina soon learned that the others had already met the Judge of Wings several times, and that her name was Mydia.

"She is no hume," Fran said meticulously in her thick accent as soon as they were alone.

"Then what is she?" Vaan wanted to know. He perched backward in a chair, spinning it idly from side to side.

Fran shook her magnificent silver head. She sat near Balthier, but he ignored her and remained standing. "It is hard to say. I sense something unusual about her. Do you not find it so?"

"Don't ask me," Vaan said bluntly. "If you can't figure it out, I don't stand a chance."

"You bear the look of a leader," Basch said. He studied Penelo's pretty, serious face, the faces of the two ragged children who flanked Vaan.

Daina, following her husband's eyes, started as she met the emotionless gaze of a young, fire-headed man. He was very beautiful, and held very, very still in the manner of a beast. Not a single feather in the broad red wings that rose from his shoulders was ruffled. _An aegyl_.

Basch's expression didn't change as he acknowledged the aegyl in their midst. "The others have come to rely on you, that much is plain."

"Good luck, Vaan," Balthier said, throwing himself casually into the chair next to Fran and propping his feet on the table. "Nasty business, this, what with Ivalice involved now."

Vaan glared at him. "What, are you just going to sit this one out?"

"I think I've earned a little break, don't you?"

"I'm sure if there's any treasure to be had, your break will be over soon enough," Vaan said sourly.

"Wait a moment. I'm not sure I'm following all of this," Daina said, speaking for the first time. Something about Balthier's attitude troubled her, as it did Ashe, who was frowning at the handsome sky pirate. "What _happened_ to all of you?"

The pair of children, who looked vaguely familiar, consisted of a boy and a girl. The boy raised his hand as if asking permission to speak in a classroom. "Feolthanos is the god of the aegyl," he said.

"He's been using the auraliths to steal their anima, and that's where the yarhi come from," Vaan elaborated.

The boy jumped up, ready for action. "That's why we've gotta destroy all the auraliths!"

"Exactly," Vaan said.

"Feolthanos?" Ashe wondered.

"Auraliths?" Basch asked.

"Their anima?" Daina asked at the same time.

"I think you'll have to go farther back, Kytes," Penelo said.

Kytes. Daina remembered the boy now. Back in Rabanastre during the war, there had been a small group of street orphans who followed Vaan around. Sometimes, they would come to Balzac, doorkeeper of the Resistance, for what they called training. The girl must be Filo, then.

Daina shook her head. It had been a long time since she'd last thought of her old suitor. They hadn't been suited for much other than fighting, but back then, the common goal of restoring Dalmasca had been enough to bring them together.

With frequent help from Kytes and Filo, Vaan told of the Cache of Glabados in Ivalice. Two treasures there were, one taken by Vaan and one by Balthier, but in collecting them, Vaan lost his original ship to an accident, the one he had paid for once Balthier reclaimed the _Strahl_. And what was a sky pirate with no sky?

It had seemed a bit of bad luck all around. Then, the next day, an ancient airship overflowing with dark Mist arrived in Rabanastre. _This_ ship, in fact. Ashe had ordered her soldiers to guard it, but Vaan, in true sky pirate fashion, stole it and christened it _Galbana_ after the desert lilies his elder brother had loved. Without guidance, it had taken him, Penelo, Tomaj (of the Sandsea tavern in Rabanastre, a streetear and great friend to the former Resistance), and the two younger orphans away from Ivalice, high above the clouds to Lemurés.

The treasure from Glabados turned out to be auracite, enabling Vaan to summon yarhi and pilot the _Galbana_. With its help, they rescued a wounded aegyl – the young man with the fiery red hair and wings, who gave his name as Llyud.

Vaan, to prove that not all sky pirates were bad, promised to help Llyud get rid of the pirates massacring the aegyl. At Penelo's suggestion, they'd started letting aegyl and pirate alike onto the _Galbana_ to keep them safe from the strange war orchestrated by the woman named Mydia. No one had seen hide nor hair of Rikken, and the pirates were scared. Vaan and his ship offered an uneasy alliance, but it seemed to be working.

"It is said the yarhi are the sword given us by the Eternal when He forged this land," Llyud explained quietly. He reminded Daina a bit of Fran, wise and almost ageless in his alien youthfulness. "Using auracite, we called them from the realm of illusion to do as we bid. The World of Illusion is everywhere, and it is nowhere. It is not a place within our world, but another world parallel to our own."

He moved to a portal, staring out at the sky and passing clouds. Dorstonis, the floating continent that carried Bhujerba far above the sea, had given them this same view. Daina wondered if Llyud had ever seen a sunrise from the mainland.

"The auraliths are the root of the power that sustains our world," he continued, with something akin to unease in his flat voice. His eyes were fixed on the islands of purvama that made up his home. "It is said that there are three such crystals. Their story begins many thousands of years ago, when the Eternal created this land.

"His proper name is Feolthanos the Eternal. When he created Lemurés, He used the three auraliths to create a barrier to protect us. Feolthanos lives even now, standing watch over Lemurés, sheltering us from harm.

"He dwells in the Keep of Forgotten Time. It lies in darkness, in a place not even our wings can reach."

"So why are you destroying these auraliths?" Ashe asked.

Vaan, Penelo, and Llyud exchanged a look. Llyud said, "The truth behind the stones . . . To summon the yarhi, you must surrender a piece of your anima. Do this long enough, and you will have none left. That was the fate of the aegyl."

_Anima_. Soul, or life. Daina suddenly understood. That was what was wrong with Llyud's face. He seemed more like a statue than a living man, one that had never known love, or hatred, jealousy or joy.

Haltingly, Penelo told them of a man who had died in Nalbina, during the same battle that had killed Prince Rasler. Velis, who had loved the woman named Mydia. Mydia, as the Judge of Wings, had attempted to bring Velis back to life, but brought only a shadow of him – a hume yarhi. This shadow-hume Velis had told them how, since ages past, Feolthanos had used the auraliths to harvest the anima of the aegyl.

"I want you to free all of us," Velis had said, and which Penelo repeated now with tears in her eyes, "all of the yarhi, from Feolthanos's spell. Through Mydia, Feolthanos is gathering the power of the anima collected in the auraliths. He means to use this power to lay siege to the world below – to Ivalice.

"We must reach the auraliths before Mydia does and destroy them. This will free the anima trapped within," she finished.

"That is why reports of the aegyl described them as slow to show emotion," Larsa mused, sounding fascinated. "They possessed no anima."

"We had lost the capability to feel in the loss of our anima," Llyud confirmed. "Two auraliths are gone, and slowly, it has been returning to us." He paused, as if thinking about trying out a smile, and then gave up with a shrug of his wings. "My anima. It is difficult to explain. It's as though a small flame burns within me."

"I think you explained it just fine," Vaan said encouragingly.

Llyud's eyebrows drew together. "Someday, I will laugh as you laugh."

"The aegyl, this land – all only pawns to the occuria," Fran said, her reddish eyes on him.

"Another fine legacy of Ivalice's 'gods.' " Balthier said sardonically. "We found the Cache of Glabados, a treasure with a connection to the Eternal. The legend was obviously true, and the Cache was the key. Once again we'd managed to find ourselves a treasure worth its weight in troubles."

Ashe and Daina smiled. He was referring to the Dusk Shard that had brought him to the palace on that fateful night so long ago.

"Eternity is an illusion," Fran said with a toss of her silver ponytail. "But there is one person who believes in that illusion. The Judge of Wings."

"But Feolthanos is using Mydia," Vaan said, perplexed.

Balthier shrugged. "Yes, Feolthanos. I'm beginning to rather mislike the gods."

"I don't know who's worse – the occuria for driving the aegyl to hide up here, or Feolthanos for stealing their anima all this time." Vaan tilted his head back and studied the ceiling. The _Galbana_'s engines rumbled, circulating air through its vents. "But there's one thing I am sure about. We've gotta find the last auralith and destroy it, or the aegyl will never be free."

"Destroying the auralith will give Lemurés reason to hope again," Llyud said slowly, as if tasting the shape of the words on his tongue. Had he ever known hope?

Vaan, however, wasn't done with Balthier. "So where'd you go after you found the Cache?"

"My business is my own," Balthier quipped.

"Fine, don't tell me." Vaan scowled.

At that, a positively devilish grin spread over Balthier's face. "I held a lovely lady in my hand, and I wanted to see her properly tended to."

Ashe looked startled, but Vaan groaned. "I don't even wanna know."

"What did happen between you and the Judge of Wings?" Penelo asked.

It was Fran who answered; Balthier seemed to be smarting over the truth behind his jokes. "We encountered her before you. She sought the impossible. To use the power of the Eternal to restore life to the unliving. The rest, you know."

"You fought her and lost?" Vaan asked, sounding a little more forgiving.

"Yes," Fran said.

"What happened then?"

"You nursed Balthier back to health, right?" Penelo laced her fingers in her lap and crossed her ankles.

A smile touched Fran's eyes. "I wouldn't be much of a partner had I not."

After a moment, Llyud spoke again. He looked at Basch, then Larsa. "So the auracite has found its way to the underworld."

"Yes," Daina answered. She smiled at him. Did they seem as alien to him as he did to them?

"If people in Ivalice use the auracite to summon, will their souls be stolen?" Vaan queried.

Llyud nodded. "It does not matter where the stones are used. The effect will surely be the same. Feolthanos's power will grow." He got to his feet. He was taller than Daina had expected, or maybe that was just the effect of the impossible red wings. He wasn't dressed very differently than the people of Dalmasca, in loose trousers cinched low over his hips, and bangles and necklaces in place of a shirt. He possessed the lean, hard muscles of a warrior, moving with control and grace. "I will have much to think on while we travel the underworld. What is right, what is wrong. Perhaps this will help me put order to my feelings."

This seemed to be the end of the conference. A scraping of chairs and the rustling of clothing as everyone stood replaced speech for a moment or two.

"Vaan." Balthier turned serious brown eyes on the younger sky pirate, leaning over the table. "Don't let yourself become a slave to the stone. Make sure you're the one using it, not the other way around. The depth of the stones is more than we can imagine. Like a woman and her wiles. Don't let yourself be taken in. Hear me?"

Then, recovering his usual swaggering grace, Balthier left the room first. Vaan watched him go, his eyebrows in his hair.

"My name is Penelo," Penelo said, dancing over to Sera. "What's yours?"

"Are you hungry, Excellency?" Basch was asking on the other side of the room.

"Let's go see if Tomaj has put any more notices on the board," Filo shouted. She and Kytes pushed their way through the adults and ran down the corridor.

Llyud and Vaan were right in front of Daina, and she clearly heard the aegyl say, "You've gathered quite a following. A boisterous group."

"That's a good way of putting it," Vaan said, and grinned. "The noise doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Do you imagine I would have traveled with you so long if it did?"

Vaan laughed. "I guess not." Then he stopped, and Daina was forced to stop, too, or else run into him. "Wait. You're kidding, right?"

"I just wanted to see the look on your face," Llyud said innocently.

"You've got a mean streak in you," Vaan complained. "Maybe getting your anima back wasn't such a great idea."

"All in good fun," Llyud said, exiting for the corridor.

"Yeah, at my expense!"

"You have a way with people, Vaan." Llyud's voice floated back into the room. "This does not come easily for me."

_And that_, Daina thought, following the disgruntled Vaan, _is why we're all here_.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Whew, that was a lot of information to get out! I'm hoping I got everything necessary and didn't manage to confuse anyone (else) not familiar with the game._

_Oh, Balthier - I'm sorry I cut you out of the limelight! I tried to make up for not showing your awesomeness by making you worry everyone a little longer. It's really a shame I couldn't show all you've done._

_I'm having so much fun with this. X3_

_Reviewer Thanks__! **Darwin **__(thankie!), and **ElTangoDeRoxanne **__(hahaha, I feel better knowing I'm not the only one who finds this sort of thing difficult__). You guys are my most faithful reviewers, and I really can't think you enough. You really make my day!_

___Until next time,_

___Anne_


	14. Terms of Alliance

Eggs.

Daina sat at a long, communal bench in the sky saloon, staring ruefully down at her plate, resisting the impulse to bury her nose in her napkin.

How Penelo managed to cook for so many people amazed her, as did the spaciousness of the _Galbana_. It was as if the ship was meant to carry great loads of hume cargo. But did Penelo really have to cook _eggs_?

Oh, the smell. It didn't smell good, not like food should.

Everyone else was already eating. The sky saloon was like a great arcade, another cheerful, colorful gathering place. Hume, moogle, seeq, and even a few viera pirates mingled with the strange aegyl. Those who had finished lunch were sorting through wares at shops under brightly-decorated banners. The noise was incredible. Daina sighed, and then picked up her fork. She might as well make the best of it, and hope it didn't come back to haunt her.

"This isn't what I expected," Sera said. She sat on the bench, looking small and lost. She was easily the best-dressed woman in the sky saloon, and several pirates had already made clumsy passes at her. Forlornly, she stared at Larsa's sleek black hair. The boy emperor was sitting by Vaan and Penelo, near enough for the girls to hear them talking.

"You could've sent a messenger to tell us what you wanted us to do, but you couldn't resist coming. Still the same old Larsa."

"Oh?" Larsa grinned.

"Not that that's a bad thing," Vaan continued. "Actually, I was sorta relieved you hadn't changed. I mean, your family has a history of letting power go to their heads."

"You need not fear that from me," Larsa said, the smile gone. He took a sip of water – the _Galbana_'s limited galley offered nothing else – and then said, "I get the impression that Filo and Kytes are avoiding me. Surely they cannot still fear the Empire."

"It's not that." Vaan mussed up Larsa's hair and earned himself an elbow in the ribs. "They just get a little nervous around you is all. They're not all that much younger than you. I'm sure they'll open up if you give 'em a little time."

Sera looked as if she wished Larsa had mentioned her, as well.

Larsa excused himself, apologized for leaving so soon after eating, and explained that he wished to speak with Ashe. As if swept in by the tide, the two Rabanastran orphans Kytes and Filo washed in to take his place. Filo leaned her elbows on the table.

"Vaan, I was wondering," she said, tilting her skybandit, the hovering board she rode, with one foot. "How come Basch left Dalmasca to become a judge in the Empire?"

Vaan laced his fingers across the back of his head. "It's kinduva long story."

"Is this some kind of grownup political stuff?" Filo demanded.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Filo's foot slipped off the skybandit, and it clattered on the floor. She bent to pick it up. "Well, I would, it's just . . . that armor he wears is kinda scary. I mean, I know he's not like the Judge of Wings or anything, but still."

Sera and Daina glanced at each other.

"Judges are kinda scary," Filo said, and then she caught sight of Daina, "but Basch seems really nice!"

Kytes agreed with Filo, and then, his mouth full, added, "I knew you were friends with the queen, but I never figured I'd get to meet her!"

"What's the matter? You're not scared of her, are you, Kytes?" Vaan laughed. "She's a bit tough on the outside, but she's not so bad once you get to know her."

"But she's the queen!" Kytes exclaimed, and Penelo shot a look at Vaan that said, _See_? "She lives in a palace and everything!"

Vaan pretended not to see Penelo's glare. "Where else would she live? Besides, that's no reason to be scared of her," he said pragmatically.

"I don't know how you do it, Vaan," Kytes said, which Sera fervently echoed under her breath.

"Can you believe these guys?" Vaan muttered in an aside to Daina. Then, goaded by Penelo's continuing dirty looks, he thumped a fist on his thigh, beginning another argument with her.

"My Lady . . ." Sera hesitated, but the Dalmascans were just getting started. Under cover of their noise, she plunged in. "Who is Judge Magister Gabranth?"

Sera, being Archadian-bred, knew that the judge magisters used assumed names rather than their own, but she seemed troubled by the few things she'd heard of this person the others knew as _Basch_.

"He is exactly who you think he is," Daina assured her, "but he is not the first man to carry the name Gabranth. My Lord had a younger brother – a twin – whose name was Noah."

She told Sera the story of their long struggle to free Dalmasca, and the ties they had forged with the Empire along the way. When she was done, she was pleased to discover that the eggs weren't so bad, and tasted more like eggs should with each bite she took. She finished off her tale with a yawn.

"Will you retire now, My Lady?" Sera asked.

Daina, although tired, shook her head. "I would like to speak with Queen Ashe, but you're welcome to take some time for yourself."

"Thank you, My Lady." Sera, cheeks pink, curtseyed, and Daina thought she knew with whom Sera would spend that time, if she could.

It had been so long since Daina had spoken with her Lady. It pleased her that Ashe was looking well, but she yearned to hear her voice one more time.

The sky saloon was still busy. Llyud was negotiating with some sky pirates for a bundle of potions, and at the far end, a high-pitched argument was being waged between Nono, the _Strahl_'s tiny mechanic, and a creature from Lemurés that had introduced herself as Cu Sith, Master Artificer. Nono's very pompon seemed to bristle with indignation, his whiskers a-quiver. A chuckling crowd had gathered to watch the moogle and fairy dog snarl at each other. Sidestepping a pair of seeqs, Daina moved toward Vaan and Penelo, who were now talking with Fran near Tomaj's shop.

"Be honest, Vaan. Has my cooking gotten any better?"

"I've gotta hand it to you, Penelo, it really has. Even Kytes and Filo are cleaning their plates. I don't know what you did to those eggs we found in the mountains, but they were fantastic."

Shyly, Penelo smiled at her sandals. "Thanks, Vaan. Too bad Balthier doesn't share your enthusiasm."

"He wouldn't touch it, huh?" Vaan scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"It is not your cooking he mislikes." Fran's long ears pricked forward, and she put a hand on her shapely hip. "For all his sophistication, he is in many ways still a child."

"Actually, that makes a lot of sense," Vaan said. "He definitely likes things his way."

"You have come to know him well," Fran said somberly.

Infinitely grateful she had been able to eat, so that she wouldn't hurt Penelo's feelings also, Daina excused herself for interrupting and asked if any of them had seen Ashe.

Fran tilted her head. "She went to commune with the winds."

* * *

Out of breath from climbing several flights of steep, narrow metal stairs, Daina pulled herself out of a hatch into the topaz, aquamarine, and diamond sparkle of Lemurés's sky. The wind wasn't much rougher than the gusts on her balcony back in Archades, and she laughed as it took her hair and whipped it into fantastic knots in a matter of seconds. The _Galbana_ soared above the setting sun, and the piercing light was almost too much to bear. Therefore, as she squinted into the glare and waited for her eyes to adjust, she was startled to hear Balthier's low, sardonic voice.

"A little drafty, don't you think? You're like to be carried off."

He wasn't talking to her. She caught sight of her erstwhile mistress, a vision in white and gold at the railing. Her ashen hair, shorter than Daina's, blew around her head like a halo.

Ashe sighed, and it sounded like a laugh. "I wanted to feel the wind on my face. I'll not be long."

"As you say."

The pair fell silent. Queen and sky pirate stood side by side at the railing, neither of them looking at each other. Daina debated leaving, but her curiosity held her in thrall. For as long as she lived, she would never forget the anguish in Ashe's voice when she screamed Balthier's name from the _Strahl_ on that final, terrible day of war, believing, as they all had, that he was dead.

Daina did not think Ashe had uttered his name since.

Abruptly, the queen spoke. "There's something I –"

She stopped. Sighed.

"Go on," Balthier said gently.

Ashe's hands tightened on the railing. "I traveled to Rozarria not long past. I saw Al-Cid."

Al-Cid Margrace, the flashy noble from the western empire. A lesser son, by his own admission, he had nevertheless shown a romantic interest in Dalmasca's deposed princess, one that Ashe had not seemed averse to.

"A state visit, was it? A queen's work is never done," Balthier said lightly.

Daina could only see their backs, so she had no idea what the sky pirate's expression looked like, but she could guess. Carefully controlled, a mask settled expertly in place. Beneath the mask, well, she could take a guess at that, too. She'd seen him once or twice, the wounded child named Ffamran.

"You really must see a sunset in the Ambervale," Ashe replied, her shoulders stiff against the darkening sky. "It was beautiful."

"No more beautiful than the view from the _Strahl_, I should think," he said.

Ashe's head lowered. With a start, Daina realized that she wore no jewelry. Her ring finger was bare. "If only I'd had the time to appreciate it then."

"There's still time."

"Is there, Balthier?"

They looked unsmiling at each other.

As unobtrusively as she could, Daina ducked back through the hatch. Not long after, she heard a single pair of footsteps slowly following her.

* * *

In need of some comfort, Daina sought out Basch. He was, as she had expected, on the _Galbana_'s bridge. The Lemurés airship didn't seem to need a pilot, the bridge apparently tacked on as an afterthought and lacking tools of navigation, so the judge magister was there alone, staring pensively out of the front windscreen. A mountainous tropical island sailed past, carpeted in palms and soaring waterfalls.

"It is strange that an entire sky continent should go undiscovered in a world of so many airships," he commented when she went to him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Home to an entire race whose very existence was lost to history. I would scarcely have believed it myself had I not seen it with my own eyes."

"I think you missed your true calling, my love," she said. "How did a man with the heart of an historian ever take up the sword?"

His arm circled her waist, but he did not smile at her teasing. He, too, was troubled. "Why did Mydia choose to guise herself as a judge? I cannot accept that it is mere coincidence. She must have some reason."

"So many questions. We won't know that until we find her." Daina was too weary to yawn. Her fingers crept to her abdomen. Was it the developing baby sapping her energy, or was it simply being up in the purified air again after so long? "We can't just fly around aimlessly, hoping to run into her."

Basch shifted. He lifted a hand to her snarled white-blonde hair. "In truth, I have a destination in mind," he said. "I must speak with Vaan."

"Basch?" She stepped back and stared at him. She was tall enough to almost look him in the eye, and her eyebrows creased. If he knew something, why keep it to himself until now? But then he kissed her, and she found she didn't care what his reasons were.

* * *

"Until we learn where the Judge of Wings is, all our plans are for naught. We should discuss what course to take next," Ashe said.

She wasn't the only one who had tagged along with Vaan to the bridge after Basch's summons. Penelo, Fran, and Balthier crowded around them.

"I've news you'll want to hear," Basch said, bowing slightly to the queen. Daina noticed that his accent was subtly changing, losing its assumed Archadian tinge. "There was someone asking about Lemurés not long before all this began."

"Who?" Vaan exclaimed, stepping closer to the taller man. "And where?"

Basch shook his wheat gold head. "I do not know, but I do know where to find someone who might. He's in Giza Plains, just outside Rabanastre. The information he has may prove useful."

"So, we have a plan now?" Penelo asked.

"Close enough," Vaan said, digging in his sash; Daina had seen him store things there before. Apparently, no one had ever taught Dalmascans about pockets. The thought, as always, amused her.

"What did this person hope to find in his search for Lemurés?" Basch murmured. "I cannot think it idle curiosity."

Vaan wasn't listening. He came up with a large pink stone. The Cache of Glabados. Auracite. With it, he was able to control _Galbana_. "Let's get going!"

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Oh my gosh, I couldn't WAIT to get the Ashe/Balthier scene in. I hope I did so organically, and did it justice (since I haven't seen any of the game cinemas). When I read the script the first time, I knew that I had to write this story JUST BECAUSE OF THAT SCENE. Oh, you silly Queen and sky pirate! Do something about it already! LOL!_

_*cough*_

_Reviewer Thanks__! This time, I only have one, but it is no less important or gratifying to me! __**ElTangoDeRoxanne **(Excellent! I'm grateful to know what works - as well as what doesn't, should you want to mention anything - although I'm hoping Daina will be able to have a more active role once the action starts up again. I guess we'll see how well I do . . . heh)._

___Humbly Yours,_

___Anne_


	15. Restoring Honor

They returned to Giza on foot. Rabanastran patrols roamed the plains, stamping out their night watch fires, seeking out yarhi and pirate. Ashe watched a patrol pass, approval in her eyes.

"A man of the Rabanastre city watch has information for us," Basch said, turning to the group ranged out behind him. "His patrol takes him through this stretch of Giza. He should not be far."

Basch had no sooner finished speaking than a happy bunny bounced out of the sands, knocking him backward. With a surprised grunt, he kicked the white ball of fluff away.

Ashe gasped. "I had no idea yarhi had been sighted so close to the city," she said. Happy bunnies were neutral beasties, choosing neither to attack nor run whenever humes walked by. This particular bunny spun upright, its feathery ears laid back and beady eyes glowing crimson. It hopped forward to attack again.

It was almost comical. Balthier put it down with a single shot, smirking.

Then, like a roll of battening unfurling, a whole bunch of yarhi bunnies appeared, bouncing and spinning like possessed tops. Daina took care of three with a single sweep of the masamune.

The morning passed in this manner, more annoying than strenuous. Each time the party tried to move forward, more yarhi appeared to hinder them. Basch interviewed the patrols who passed them, until one soldier waved his comrades on and stayed behind.

"Aye, I'm the one you're looking for," he said amiably, tossing a friendly salute to Basch.

Daina stood with her husband. Vaan, his head down, began pacing. It was his way of thinking, or of absorbing information. Penelo, Ashe, Balthier, and Fran fanned out, some keeping watch, others merely resting.

"You're here about the unusual young lady I spoke with, yes? She said she was travelling to learn all she could about a lost sky continent. She was quite taken with the notion." He grinned. "Charming thing. Fair of skin, with golden hair. Did I mention she was a viera?"

"A fair-skinned viera?" Basch repeated, taken aback.

At that, both Balthier and Fran turned toward them.

The soldier, oblivious to the sudden tension, gave them a fond smile, his eyes fixed on the memory of the viera. "She had her ears tucked in her hat – they weren't all that long, you see. She could easily have passed for a hume."

Basch and Daina looked at each other. Vaan continued pacing.

"That doesn't sound like any viera I've ever heard of," Ashe observed, coming toward them, frowning.

"I even commented how lovely her hair was," the soldier reminisced. "She turned as red as a galbana lily. A cute one like that, you'd think her used to such compliments."

"Any idea where she might be?" Vaan asked directly.

"Your guess is as good as mine," the watchman said, coming back to the present. "She ran off, and I've not seen her since."

Penelo walked up to him, her red pants whispering against her legs. "Did she tell you what her name was?"

"Her name?" The soldier scratched his chin. "Now that you mention it, I think she did. What was it?" After a moment, he snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's right! She said her name was Mydia."

Subdued, Basch thanked the soldier for his time.

Each one of them then gazed at Fran, a head taller than Balthier, disbelief, dismay, and a glaring question in every face. She withstood their expressions tolerably well, her own beautiful face only gaining in austerity. She put her hand on her hip and said, "Mydia is of a different tribe of viera. They are often called the Exiled."

"There are different kinds of viera?" Vaan goggled at her.

"There are," she said coolly. "The features the guard described can leave no doubt. Flaxen hair, fair skin, and short ears. And more long-lived than all other viera."

It was Daina's turn to frown. None of them knew Fran's true age, except perhaps Balthier, although something Fran's sister Jote had once said made Daina suspect that Fran had been a grown woman over fifty years ago. Was it possible to have another species live longer than the seemingly ageless Fran?

"How could their existence pass without notice?" Ashe asked, sounding almost angry.

Fran's reddish eyes softened. "Their numbers were ever few. They were driven from the Wood long ago as monsters. Exiles. We thought them long dead."

Nobody voiced an opinion on that. They all cared too much for Fran to hurt her by remarking on or censuring the Green Word's rigid laws. Those same laws had driven her from the Wood, too. In her own words, she was now as if a hume, no longer a true viera, but she could never fully deny her heritage.

"So the Judge of Wings – Mydia – is one of the last of her people?" Penelo breathed.

"With a keen interest in Lemurés. The plot thickens," Balthier said, brushing aside her concern.

"What's it all _mean_?" Vaan snarled. He turned on his heel and marched off.

"Vaan . . ." Daina hurried after him, worried.

Vaan gave them no time to wonder for long. Feverishly, he sought out as much information as he could, until he intercepted a communiqué that originated with the kiltias on Mt. Bur-Omisace: The Judge of Wings had been spotted near the Paramina Rift.

With the _Galbana_, it took them no time at all to cross over Golmore Jungle and descend into the blue-gray ravines of the Rift. Swirling snow blocked their view, crunching underfoot as they debarked.

Kytes, wrapped in a long green robe, his satchel at his hip, rested his hands on his bare knees. "It's c-c-cold," he stuttered.

"What kind of talk is that for a sky pirate?" Typical of a Dalmascan native, Filo wore even less than Kytes, dressed in sandals, orange shorts, and a red halter top, but she seemed warm enough – or perhaps that was because she could never hold still. She swooped past him on her pink and white skybandit, a splash of color against the snow, snapping her goggles over her eyes. "Shape up or ship out!" she shouted back at him.

"What was she doing here, anyway?" Vaan murmured, taking Penelo's hand to help her through the deeper drifts. He was referring to the Judge of Wings and not the pirate-in-training who zoomed by him.

Daina jumped through the tracks her friends made, while Basch escorted the queen. There really wasn't much to see on this snowy day. Even the white wolves and wild onions seemed to have holed up for the storm. Llyud and his halberd had remained on board the _Galbana_. They could not afford to leave it and Larsa unprotected.

Suddenly, Filo began yelling. "Hey, Vaan! Look at this!"

Helped by his magus staff, which he was wielding like a walking stick, Kytes rushed into the gloom. He, too, gave a yell. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Daina expected something fantastic – another strange airship, perhaps, or a portal to another world. Therefore, when she struggled to the children, who were standing in front of a large, unremarkable stone with names carved in its shining face, she looked around in confusion for several moments.

Ashe saved her. "It's a memorial commemorating those who died in the battle of Nalbina. This site was chosen for its vicinity to the holy grounds of Mt. Bur-Omisace."

"What would Mydia want with this?" Vaan wondered.

"Look, Vaan!" Filo jumped off the skybandit and pointed at the stone. "Velis's name is right there on the memorial."

Velis, Penelo had told them, was the man whom Mydia had loved and lost, and then attempted to bring back to life. "Velis did say he was in Nalbina when the war came," she said.

Basch knelt before the monument, his wheat gold head bowed, the lines around his eyes looking deeper than ever. Carved, like the names in the stone. Ashe and Daina looked at each other, at him, and back at the memorial.

"So the Judge of Wings was visiting Velis's grave?" Vaan shook his head. "I guess she has a soft side, too."

"Strip away the armor," Basch said heavily, getting to his feet, "there is still a person underneath."

"Maybe she came here hoping to find part of herself," Penelo said.

"Trapped by her own past . . ." Ashe touched the third finger of her left hand, twisting an imaginary ring.

The wind howled. The Rift was a lonely, savage place on the best of days. Daina shivered. She didn't like the feeling of hopelessness, of futility stealing over her, over them all.

Apparently, Vaan didn't, either. Loudly, he said, "Then this is all one big stroll down memory lane for her? I didn't think she was so sentimental."

"I left my anima in Lemurés," a female voice disagreed.

Daina tensed, the masamune clearing its sheath without a sound. The voice had been in her head, the words imprinted directly on her brain. In the past, only the esper Shemhazai had been able to do that.

Above the memorial, the air shimmered. The snow turned gray, then faded altogether, and a blot of darkness solidified. A figure in black armor hung there, metallic wings rising from its shoulders, its helm threateningly faceless.

"She's here!" Vaan cried needlessly.

Basch stiffened. Then, he, too, drew his sword, the wicked curved blade his brother had preferred.

"Basch!" Ashe held out a hand.

"I will deal with her, Highness," he said, his rough voice steely.

The Judge of Wings activated her piece of the Cache of Glabados, and energy poured out of it. It surrounded Basch with hectic pink light, and he fell to his knees with a gasp. The floating judge laughed, a beautifully feminine sound. The light misted out, grabbing each of them in turn.

Every muscle in Daina's body seized. She cried out, fighting to free herself, to help her fallen Lord. The others, she saw, were paralyzed also. Was it Mydia who was doing this? Her power – it was immense!

"You are a false judge," Mydia purred. "You fanned war's flame, only then to heel like the cur you are before the throne of the Empire."

_How could she know that_? Daina wondered.

"I am no cur!" Basch snapped.

"Your every breath betrays those who died for you." The Judge of Wings lifted her arm and swept it over them, over the ground. "Is it not just that they should watch as you draw your last?"

Familiar crackling, squawking sounds crawled into Daina's ears, making her shiver. It was the only motion allowed to her. Putrescent zombies rose from the snow, their lank hair covering their fleshless faces, their rotting tongues wagging, swollen leg joints barely holding them upright. They readied halberds and black magicks, shambling up to and surrounding the kneeling judge magister.

The memories wrapped around Daina.

_"Do you ever wonder if that could happen to you?"_

_Basch paused in the act of re-tying one of his gloves, and studied the now-quiet bridge. "The thought has crossed my mind," he said at last._

_"They were once men." Daina hugged herself while the icy wind pulled at her green coat and her braid. "Knights who could not bear to be released from their vows by death, forced to wander for eternity, trapped souls, full of anger and despair. As I am. I am angry that I could not protect Amalia. I despair that I cannot help her as I am now."_

_"It is easy to imagine for yourself such a fate?"_

_"Not quite." She looked up at him. "It is hard to discredit the possibility."_

A knight's path was a dangerous one, both in this life and the next, and whatever they called him now, Basch was still a knight. _Basch_, Daina pleaded silently, unable to speak, _don't listen to her_!

Monkey squawks and chattering giggles drowned out the sound of the wind. One zombie positioned its blade above Basch's bowed head, preparing to cut through his neck.

"No!" Basch roared. Impossibly, he surged to his feet and, with a mighty swing of his blade, dispelled the pink light and sent the undead flying. Telekinesis was a skill Daina had never mastered, since it required the same sort of concentration more advanced magicks did, but Basch's use of it had broken Mydia's spell.

Daina's face was hot, but she could feel tears freezing on her cheeks. _Basch_. Her love wasn't prone to showing much emotion – he kept it all inside, showing the world a knight's control. But there he stood, twenty years of fury and pain etched in every feature.

He looked frighteningly like Noah.

"The dead will find no release in blood," he growled. He cut down more zombies. "Perhaps I am no true judge. But the future is built on more than what is passed."

He broke into a dead run, slicing into the last few apparitions, which disintegrated, until nothing separated him from the Judge of Wings.

"A man whose gaze bends ever back cannot hope to find his way forward," he told her, his low voice ragged.

She answered by summoning more of the undead. They assembled themselves from the ground beneath the snow, cackling.

Basch heaved a sigh, the kind meant to relieve tension. Some of his fire withdrew until he was once more calm, but by no means less lethal. "You would bind yourself to illusions, to the fallen," he said. "I will cut you free of those bonds! There is no justice in revenge!"

He took a swipe at the judge, but she vanished. The move must have broken her concentration, however; Daina toppled over, her release so unexpected that she failed to catch herself in time. The others picked themselves out of the snow as a veritable wave of zombies descended on them. The fighting was intense, but, thankfully, these undead fiends, once struck, did not rise again.

The masamune lopped off the tip of a halberd, and its backswing took the halberd-wielder's head. Daina halted when she backed into something hard, her eyes sweeping the ravine for further enemies. There were none.

She turned, found herself back-to-back with Basch, both of them panting.

"The undead we were fighting," Penelo said presently, wiping away a cut on Vaan's cheek, "were they people who died in the war?"

Fran, inspecting her broken bow string, shook her head. "No, though she would have you believe otherwise."

"Legions of the undead risen to fight at her side," Balthier said, and shrugged. "Quite the intimidating show she puts on."

"She went to all that trouble – summoning yarhi that look like zombies – just to scare us?" Vaan scowled under Penelo's hands.

"She wants revenge for the war that took Velis from her," Penelo said.

Ashe looked away. "We each bear war's burdens."

"Yes," Basch said roughly, "but she has let hers drive her to revenge." He was still angry, although Daina knew he would never speak of this again. It would lie, as so much of his past did, deep in his heart, another burden to bear. Alone.

Ashe bowed her head. Then, slowly, she approached the memorial. She sighed. "Ivalice has moved past the war," she said, her back to them. "Times have changed."

"Yes, but do people make the times, or the other way round?" Larsa asked.

"Excellency!" Basch cried.

The group made way for the boy as he neared the memorial. He nodded at them all, Llyud at his shoulder like a guardian seraph. "If this new era is to shape the people living in it, it will not happen overnight."

"Our struggle is never truly won, is it?" Ashe agreed. "Always we must fight for our future."

Balthier, his fomalhaut resting on his shoulder, wordlessly headed back to the _Galbana_. Basch sheathed his sword.

"Kytes?" Daina asked, seeing that the Dalmascan orphan was standing in the snow, his head bowed.

"What's the matter?" Basch asked.

Kytes spoke to the dirty ice beneath his feet. "You fought at Nalbina, right?"

A fine line appeared between Basch's eyebrows, but he nodded.

"Do you think what you did was right?" Kytes lifted big, dark eyes to Basch's face.

Slowly, Basch shook his head. "If I am to suffer for my deeds, so be it. Whether the dead will it is not for me to say. We can but honor their memory. Their rage was not their own. Returning them to their slumber was a mercy."

Kytes's shoulders slumped. "I see why they call you a hero," he said reverently.

"I am a servant of the Empire, now," Basch said. "Dalmasca must find new heroes."

With that, Basch bowed once more to the memorial before he followed Balthier to the warmth of the ship.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: I really like it when it happens that I wrote something in ASftP that accidentally fits in with a scene from this plotline. LOL_

_So, how am I doing, folks? Good, bad, somewhere in between? Leave a review, let me know!_

_Reviewer Thanks__! To the über-faithful __**ElTangoDeRoxanne **and** Darwin**. I love you both!_

___Anne_


	16. That Left Behind

Someone was touching her hair. Gentle fingers smoothing the strands, lingering against her face. She smiled and opened her eyes.

Basch was lying next to her, apparently watching her sleep. When he saw that she was awake, he brought a lock of her hair to his lips. Sunlight streamed across his scar.

Still feeling fuzzy, but in a pleasant way, Daina reached up and brushed her fingers through his beard. He smiled, amber eyes half-lidded.

It was a moment of peace. Daina kissed him lightly and sat up. She swung her feet to the deck.

He spoke from the bed. "How did you sleep?"

"Too long, I'm guessing," she said. He was dressed, and something about the air or the light told her it was no longer morning. She inhaled, stretching her arms and her toes. "I slept well," she added, surprised.

He touched her nearer arm, tracing a pattern on her skin, a look of contentment upon his face.

Thoughts of her condition, as Sera put it, were never far. Just being here with him was enough to narrow her existence down to that single awareness, every other thought pushed aside or discarded entirely. She swallowed, her peace gone.

"Basch?"

"Yes, Lady?" He was still running his fingers up and down her arm.

_There's something I have to tell you_. She willed the words out, but they didn't make it to her mouth. _There's something I have to tell you_!

"Lady?" He sat up, tried to get a look at her face, but she turned her head away. And then she shook it.

"It's nothing," she said, and smiled. "The ship isn't moving. Where are we?"

"The Glabados Ruins in Ivalice," he said. He got off the bed, started collecting his armor. "Balthier told us there were three treasures in the Cache, counting the stones he, Vaan, and Mydia hold. They are seeking answers below."

He didn't seem suspicious at all. If she told him about the baby, it would come as a complete shock.

She had to tell him. He had to know.

"Basch?" she said again.

He looked at her, waiting.

"Do you love me?"

He crossed their small cabin and took her in his arms.

"Until the sun expires," he said.

And still, she didn't tell him. Now just wasn't the right time. Perhaps, if they found and stopped Mydia, he could bear the news. Not now, not while the threat of the Judge of Wings hung over them like a pall.

"Until the end of the world," she agreed.

* * *

Grinning, Tomaj waved the couple forward when they entered the sky saloon. He, Sera, and Larsa were bent over a small radio in Tomaj's shop. In the corner, Cu Sith pulled on her ears. "Hmm . . . Hrm . . ." She sighed, and then muttered, "Everyone seems to be making themselves useful. I only hope I'm doing my part."

"If this works, you're doing a great job." Tomaj fiddled with a dial on the radio, and both he and Larsa cracked grins when Balthier's voice issued through the static.

"I dare say we're not the first visitors these halls have seen in recent days," the sky pirate observed.

"We thought it best to let you sleep," Sera told Daina in an undertone. She scooted over to make room for her Lord and Lady, which put her closer to the emperor.

Larsa tossed his head and stuck his snub nose in the air. "You thought it best I remain safely here, you mean," he said, eyes closed, and then opened one in a wink. "However, that doesn't mean we can't eavesdrop a little. Right, Miss Farron?"

Sera glowed.

"No," Fran was saying through the radio, "I sense something on the Mist. The other treasure was here."

"Who's carrying the transmitter?" Daina queried, amused.

"Vaan," said several voices at once.

Basch coughed on a laugh.

"This must be where Mydia found it," Balthier said, unable to hear them. After a moment, he added, "Fran, look at this. There's something etched in the stone. Can you make it out?"

"It's written in an ancient hand. 'To the viera I took for my wife, to our beloved children, this gift I leave – Feolthanos.' "

"Feolthanos?" That was Llyud, his inflectionless voice unnaturally loud, as if he wasn't used to pitching it to an emotion like surprise. Which, of course, he wasn't.

Vaan spoke up. "Why would a god from Lemurés build a temple in Ivalice? And what's this about a wife and children?"

"I see where this is going," Balthier said darkly.

"And where's that?" Penelo wanted to know.

"The Cache of Glabados was a father's legacy to his family."

Daina's hand jumped to her abdomen. Fathers and family. Bonds as old as the world. Fears as old as the world, too.

No one else noticed Daina's preoccupation, because Fran was speaking again. "Feolthanos took a viera as his wife. Their children are surely the fair-skinned viera from whom Mydia is descended."

The group in the shop looked at each other, absorbing the idea. From the radio, Kytes let out a squeak.

"I just realized something!" the boy mage shouted. "The _Galbana_ started moving when we brought the Cache onboard, right?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?" Filo demanded.

"Of course!" It sounded as though Penelo clapped her hands together. "The _Galbana_ must've been called to Ivalice when we took the Cache! Feolthanos made the airship to bring his family to Lemurés!"

"You mean the _Galbana_ belongs to Feolthanos?" Vaan choked out, furious.

"All this time we've been traveling in a vessel of the Eternal," Llyud breathed in wonder. "If Feolthanos came from this land, why did he leave it in favor of Lemurés?"

Penelo seemed to be following another track of thought, and didn't answer him. "The Judge of Wings is really a viera named Mydia. Only she's not just any viera, she's one of the last of the Exiled viera."

"And she was trying to learn as much as she could about Lemurés," Vaan said.

"The land where eternity dreams," Balthier mocked.

"Right," Penelo said, unperturbed. "She probably wanted to find a way to be with Velis again. And that's why she went looking for the Cache of Glabados – its connection with the Eternal."

"Along the way she became the Judge of Wings. But what happened to her after she found the Cache?" Vaan asked.

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Penelo said thoughtfully.

"If I may," Fran put in. "You forget the inscription."

"That's when she found a way to get to Lemurés!" Vaan exclaimed.

"The pieces fit," Balthier said, something very like a shrug in his voice. "She knew that her tribe of viera were the sons – or daughters, in this case – of Feolthanos. She went to Lemurés looking for him."

"Incredible," Llyud said. Daina secretly agreed.

The topic was still under fierce discussion when the party returned to the ship.

"Anyone who calls himself a god to rule over his flock as a benevolent father has issues that need resolving," Balthier said flatly.

Vaan made a face at him. "I thought the Cache of Glabados was just an ordinary treasure."

"You should know there's no such thing as an ordinary treasure," Balthier replied. He affected a yawn, his handsome face clouded.

"It wouldn't have killed you to tell me!"

"But you are so blissful in your ignorance. Besides, it hasn't stopped you from making a fine captain." Balthier flung himself through the sky saloon without stopping, clearly desperate for some time alone, but the others gathered around the group in Tomaj's shop.

"Was that an insult or a compliment?" Vaan grumped. He perched next to Cu Sith, patting her head. She ignored him, muttering to herself over her tools.

"There's one thing I still don't understand," Ashe said, perplexed. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "Why leave a trail that we could follow? Unless she wanted us to find it . . ."

"I'm not so sure Mydia really wants to start a war with Ivalice," Penelo murmured.

"Oh yeah?" Vaan cocked his head at her. "How come?"

Penelo twiddled with the end of one of her braids. "Well, with Velis gone, maybe part of her anima's been restored. And if it has, maybe that part wants us to find a way to stop her."

"The Empire is responsible for Velis's death, and yet she wears the armor of a judge," Ashe pointed out, cupping her elbows in her hands.

"She must have some reason for it," Daina agreed.

"Mydia must've felt so alone when she lost Velis," Penelo said. As always, the mention of the dead man put tears in her eyes. "That's probably all the chance Feolthanos needed."

Llyud's red wings rustled. "Mydia obeys Feolthanos because she is descended from him. But how can a god have children?"

"Whatever he is, he cannot be a being like the occuria," Basch said.

Llyud frowned a little, but nodded in agreement. Then, he cocked his head at the two children, who were talking excitedly over something in Filo's hands.

"Look, Vaan! It's a map! And it's really old!" Filo unfolded the crumbling rectangle of paper.

"We can't read a word," Kytes added, shaking his head so that his cowlick fluttered.

Vaan grinned, impressed. "Where'd you dig that up?"

"These two found it in the ruins," Tomaj said, rapping his knuckles smartly onto each child's head. They both protested, slapping him away, but he merely laughed down at them.

Fran peered curiously at the map. "The hidden village of the daughters of Feolthanos," she said, her eyes tracing the ancient writing. "The Feol viera. They dwell in Roda Volcano – in Bervenia."

"Bervenia?" Vaan repeated, startled. He wasn't the only one taken aback by this news.

Ivalice consisted of three inhabited continents: Valendia to the north, home of the Archadian Empire, Ordalia to the west, which supported the Rozarrian Empire and the little kingdom of Dalmasca, and Kerwon to the south, where the garif dwelled. Bervenia was the fourth, unclaimed, eastern continent, a barren wasteland held to be taboo by the races of Ivalice.

"Roda Volcano is a harsh place," Fran said, raising her silver eyebrows. "Neither tree nor grass finds purchase there. The Feol viera kept themselves far from hume and viera alike."

"We wanted to give it to Larsa," Kytes said, pulling the map out of Fran's sight.

Larsa's blue eyes went wide, but he smiled. "Thank you. This will no doubt prove a vital discovery."

"Mydia would let her hatred grow to engulf us all," Ashe sighed, still concerned with the war the Judge of Wings had set loose on her people. On that somber note, the party dispersed, all but the queen. Sera would have stayed behind, but Daina sent her off with a smile.

"My Lady, it is good to see you well," she said to Ashe.

"As well as can be," Ashe said.

"How is it, really?" Daina asked.

Ashe laughed softly. "I knew what I was doing when I sent you away. You know the ministers as well as I do. When this ship first arrived outside of Rabanastre, there was a panic. The ministers themselves started the idea that the city was under attack or invasion. I sent some of the city watch to guard the ship, but it was several hours before I could convince my own ministry that we were in no danger. And then, right under the eye of the watch, the ship vanished again. How I wished for you then!"

Daina laughed. "If I had been there, Vaan would never have been able to steal the ship in the first place. And then where would we be now?"

"Point," Ashe said. "But you, Daina. How is it, really?"

"I am a judge magister's wife," she answered, and then truthfully added, "and I am happy."

Ashe smiled, and the two women talked long into the night.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: I never before realized how visual I am as a writer until I tried to write this fanfiction. Never having played the game, I'm completely LOST on how to narrate! I don't like not knowing what the surroundings look like, or what the battles look (and feel) like . . . Hrm. I apologize for taking forever between updates, but that right there is the main reason why. I want to give you guys a good story if I can!_

_At this point, I'm at page 237 of 294 main script pages. I'm still combing through the missions to find conversations that might fit in the story I'm weaving (and hoping like heck I'm not missing anything, LMAO!)._

_Reviewer Thanks__! __**ElTangoDeRoxanne **(Now that I've read more of your stories, I do see what you mean - I find it kind of cool that you and I write so similarly even though our stories are so hugely different), and** Darwin** (it's so weird that to us, from Daina's storyline, we ran into the Judge of Wings so early . . . but for Vaan and the others, they've collided with her a bunch of times already. I'm struggling to get the feeling of - well, struggle - into this story. I'm hoping the next chapter will start to remedy that),** FinalAnimalMoonE **(I am so happy you've returned to review!), and** Black Claided Cat **(and it's good to see you, too!). I really, really appreciate your reviews, guys!_

___A very tired Anne_


	17. Dead City Watch

In all their travels, Daina had never seen a place like Roda Volcano.

A false dusk enveloped the mountain and surrounding plain, brought on by the choking clouds of ash. Shapes drifted along the clouds, twisting, leaping, contorting, and red-lit by the feverish glow from the mountain itself. Yarhi. Thousands of them. The land looked black, scorched. A rumble assaulted their inner ears, too low to hear. It was a quiet, unnatural place, and they dropped their voices to whispers in response. They stood dumbfounded at the base of _Galbana_'s gangplank, not sure they should trespass here.

As if in answer, a thunderous explosion from the peak made everyone jump. Indifferent to its visitors, the volcano went back to muttering in its sleep.

"A mountain of death few would dare approach," Basch commented, his brow creased.

"How can anybody live in a place like this?" Vaan burst out.

They'd come seeking the Village of the Exiled, or the Feol Warren, for answers to the mystery that was Mydia.

Vaan moved gingerly forward, Penelo and the children on his heels, all four of them kicking through volcanic rocks that threatened to slice their shoes to ribbons and made tinkling, glass-like noises as they skittered away.

Fran, however, suddenly dropped to her knees with a crunch of armor on lava gravel. "The Mist rages," she whimpered.

Balthier was at her side in a flash. The eerie red light made them both look like they were covered in blood.

"I'm – I'm all right," Fran said. She pushed Balthier back and stood, one hand pressed to her ribs.

Ashe drew her tournesol. She'd opted to go without a shield in order to wield the golden greatsword with both hands. "There's no turning back now. Let's get moving."

With no other clue to their final destination than the glowing caldera – it wasn't like there were any roads – the party wound their way into the unreal night.

Ashe saw the purobolos first and yelled a hoarse warning. The demented construction of magick and science came wriggling out of the dark, its mouth huge and jagged, tiny arms flailing. Hordes of others followed, coalescing from the volcano's poisonous breath.

Daina, already on edge, let a laugh escape her lips as she dove into the fracas, the masamune throwing back the volcano's hellish light. Bombs like this purobolos were old hat (she would never forget the incident in the Salikawood). Parry and thrust, slash and hack, duck out of the way for an incoming friendly blizzaga or watera spell that turned everything to hissing steam. The constructs responded with spells of their own, firaga cackling like demented laughter. One bomb at a time, she and her friends inched up the mountainside.

And then a wounded purobolos self destructed.

The explosion caused a chain reaction in the surrounding bombs. One after another, they blew apart, sending fire magick and shrapnel flying with deadly accuracy.

A flaming shard of inscribed metal hit Daina in the chest. Enveloped in a horrible, sickening moment of calm, she felt it pass into her, grazing a rib, burning a hole in her lung, and thought, _Like a hot knife through butter_.

Then the shard exited her back and she fell into a world of fire and darkness.

* * *

"Did you know it's like the sea?" Sera had asked, her shy eyes asking permission. She loved babies, she had said, and was eagerly awaiting the chance to care for this one.

"The sea?" Daina had touched her abdomen doubtfully. It felt the same as always, except for a tiny hard spot, low between her hips.

Sera had also laid her hand there, reverently. "Life came from the ocean. Life here, too, is nurtured in an ocean. That's how my mother describes it. A newborn baby even smells like the sea."

The ocean. Gentle waves that cradle. _Nurture_. That was a good word.

Water. Warm. Too warm. Getting hotter.

Suffocating.

_I can't breathe_.

* * *

Daina woke with a scream. Not a quiet one, either – it was a sound of pure terror that echoed and bounced through the volcano's fumes, and felt like it came from her spine. Something crumbled from her forehead, holding its shape until it burst apart on her knee, becoming a smudge of ash.

A feather.

"Lady."

The low, rough voice triggered something in her, and she burst into tears.

"Was that a phoenix down?" she shrieked through her sobs. "The baby couldn't breathe!"

For one brief, heart-stopping second, the world ceased to turn. Basch stared at her, his handsome, knightly face a mask of emotion. Fear and anxiety – because she had indeed died. Hope and relief – because of the phoenix down gamble. And there, gathering in his eyes, the tight set of his mouth – surprise, disbelief, and a steadily growing fury.

He said only one thing: "What?"

Daina swallowed, her mouth tasting of dirt, her throat burning with bile. She'd never died before. Now that it was over, her revived heart was bounding behind her ribcage, a panicked _thump thump thump_ that made her head spin. She pressed her hands into her abdomen. Was the baby alive? There was no way to tell.

"Daina," Basch barked, and she flinched. Not Lady. _Daina_.

He was mad. As mad as the time he'd taunted Noah to kill him and end their suffering.

Oh, abyssal celebrant, he was mad at _her_.

"I'm pregnant," she said woodenly. She spread her hands, meeting his eyes, hard as chips of cold amber. There was nothing else to say; she'd said too much already.

He looked like he was biting his tongue. "How long?" he got out.

"How long have I been pregnant? Or how long have I known?" Her natural defiance was awakening, protecting her. If their little love affair was over, if he rejected her, she had to be prepared to take care of herself. Which was fine, she told herself fiercely. She'd done it before. She got to her feet, felt lava pebbles cascade out of her hair.

He nodded once. Yes. Both.

She shrugged. "Maybe seven weeks along. Eight. We aren't sure."

"We?"

"Me and Sera," she said coldly, and a tiny thread of wicked satisfaction snaked through her at the shame that relaxed some of his features. If he thought this baby might even remotely be someone else's –! "Sera's the one who figured it out. Not surprising, with nine younger siblings. So, I haven't known all that long."

"And you thought I didn't need to know?" He was so angry his voice rose to a shout. "That it didn't concern me?"

"I tried to tell you!" she yelled back.

"Darling, you couldn't have tried very hard."

"That's not fair!" she cried. Tears stung her eyes. "You have no idea what this has been like for me –"

"That's right, I don't." As if in response to their noise, the volcano rumbled, the ground rippling beneath their feet. "You didn't need me. You never have, have you?"

With one, last, disgusted look, he turned and marched up the slope. It was only then that Daina realized she was alone. The others must have gone on ahead.

Doused by a chill that banished the volcano's heat, Daina watched him go. The mountain bucked again, and the boom of its eruption grated on her ears. Nearly blinded by tears, she stumbled after Basch, falling through a hollow tree she barely saw.

She blinked, shocked at the sudden absence of the stinking ash clouds. A river flowed lazily by, molten rock glowing so brightly that black spots danced in her vision. Here, in this pocket of heat and breathable air, was the Village of the Exiled, wrapped about by a weakened paling. Tree roots withered in the fierce temperature, and the houses built of the warped wood seemed to wait eagerly for destruction's release.

"Mydia – no!"

That was Vaan. Daina squinted through the shimmering heat waves.

Saw the bodies of Feol viera lying where they had been slain, their corpses smoking as the ground slowly cooked them.

Saw the Judge of Wings, laughing, as she cut the last of the willowy, fleeing figures down.

"Mydia, please!" Penelo screamed.

Mydia tilted her head, and Daina imagined the pretty viera girl underneath the Judge's closed helm, innocent of any evil. "What is life, weighed against the past that I have lost?" She yanked her sword out of the viera and the dead woman landed face down in the lava flow, her yellow hair igniting.

"But you've already found your anima, I'm sure of it!" Penelo shouted, the sound of her kind heart breaking clear in her voice. "Look inside yourself. Don't you see Velis there? The man who loves you?"

The false judge said nothing. Behind her helm, it was impossible to read her expression, but Penelo pressed ahead hopefully.

"Velis wouldn't want any of this. You have to know that!"

Mydia brandished her sword. "Enough of this!" she snarled. "My sorrow is my own!"

As if to summon, she lifted her Cache, but then she hurled it into the lava river. An earthquake immediately followed, throwing everyone around, and hundreds of yarhi burst from the river's molten depths. Mydia swooped down on Penelo while her yarhi minions bowled into everyone else like a furry wave.

Daina caught a beast by the throat and flung it away from her, using its momentum to send it end over end until it smashed into a house, but the beast behind it latched onto her leg. She screamed and swung the masamune down, neatly severing its head. The beast vanished. She swung again. And again, like shearing wheat. Something clawed her face – she cut that beast down, too. Blood streamed down her cheek, and more soaked into her boot. Repeated flare spells from the Judge of Wings seared her clothes while she battled to contain the flames. The smell of her hair burning almost made her sick. Heavy bodies buffeted her as if she was a leaf in the wind, and she struggled to keep her feet, but she kept fighting, occasionally calling out to her friends. To Basch.

She was angry with him. Betrayed by him, and he by her, but she couldn't bear the thought of him dying in this hairy, slobbering mess. He didn't answer.

Instead, Mydia appeared. Right in front of her.

The Judge saw her at the same time, and their swords squealed off each other. Daina was far from whole, but Mydia was also wounded, and Daina had always been fast. The masamune flicked through the other woman's guard and pierced her armor, right in the armpit. It struck again when the Judge dropped her weapon, hitting the tendon in her inner thigh. Mydia crumpled like a broken telescope.

On a gust of hot, smelly air, the yarhi vanished.

Panting, Daina stood over her foe as Mydia's black-winged armor also vanished, revealing the fragile girl beneath. Mydia was on her knees, her face white with pain.

Balthier slowly approached. He studied the fallen viera, and then quietly said, "You let us win."

Mydia said nothing, breathing through sharp, clenched teeth.

"Why not run?" Balthier asked, putting a hand on Daina's shoulder. Offering her support, she realized with a rush of gratitude. They were fine. Basch and Ashe. Vaan, Penelo, Filo, and Kytes. Llyud, too. "And why throw away the stone?"

At last, Mydia painfully spoke. "I will not suffer him to use others as he has used me. In death my people are free. They will not know the sorrows I have."

"You are a fool to think so," Fran said, her reddish eyes on the lava.

"Fools being foolish. What more would you expect?" Balthier asked, giving his partner a lopsided grin.

Mydia wasn't finished. Apparently too weak for words, she let her aura manifest once more, and Daina plunged into a kind of waking dream.

Mydia sat near the lava flow in the Feol Warren, an older viera next to her. "I don't like it here," Mydia said, chucking a rock into the river. "Why can't we leave?"

"We will not be here forever," the older woman said to her daughter. "One day we will live among the clouds."

Mydia gave her mother a look reminiscent of teenagers everywhere.

"But until then, we cannot leave," her mother said, ignoring the look. "None of us can. Do you understand?"

She produced a book and showed it to her daughter.

Mydia inspected it as if it were a wildsnake and might bite her. "What's that?"

"It is an ancient text of our people. Take it."

Curiosity got the better of her. Mydia did, flipping through the pages. She scrunched up her nose. "The words make no sense."

"When you are grown, you will understand," her mother said, like Fran at her most infuriatingly cryptic.

Mydia spoke, but it wasn't the Mydia with the book. It was the present-day one. "But I did not heed my mother's request. I left our village – left my mother. The world beyond the village was a place filled with wonder I had not imagined. And then I met Velis, a man wonderful beyond imagining. We first met in Rabanastre. There was a spot just outside Southgate where we would wait for each other. It was our spot."

Daina's surroundings swam again. There was Rabanastre, shining pearlescent in the Dalmascan sun. Mydia came running down the steps of Southgate.

"Rabanastre was a grand city, with a thousand things to do and see. 'How nice,' thought I, 'to someday walk its streets with my mother. To share these wonders with her.' "

A pleasant-faced man walked to meet Mydia. The carefree girl waved at him and called, "Sorry I'm late. What's this big news you've to tell me?"

"I made my decision," he said. "I'm going to join the Dalmascan army."

"You would risk your life so that kings and emperors can play at their game of thrones?" she asked, frowning. "Why?"

"So that you can live in a world free of tyranny and fear."

Mydia didn't answer, but Velis continued anyway. "And when I'm back, you can take me to visit your family."

This seemed to win her over. "Oh, Velis . . ."

However, he faded as she reached for him, and she sat down in a sulk.

"But Velis never came back," the real Mydia said in monotone. "The war ended, and I waited. But he never came back. I was alone."

The environment shifted again to the snowy peaks of the Paramina Rift and the frost-rimed memorial. Mydia's brow furrowed as she struggled to read an old book.

"In my solitude, I thought of my mother, and soon remembered the book she'd given me. A fairy tale of my people – of the Feol viera.

" 'In ages now forgotten, our people were driven to live on islands in the sky. There dwells our patriarch, possessed of life eternal – Feolthanos. And from his back great wings spread to blot out the sun.'

"These words, though strange, came from my mother's book. Why should I not believe them?"

Another shift. The Glabados Ruins.

"Standing there in the ruins, I felt our father's presence. A warmth that wrapped itself about me and filled me from within. I had found my true home. I knew he would accept me, save me, in spite of all I had done. I would share with him the love I could not share with my mother. And so I went in search of the sky."

Somewhere in the real world, Fran and Penelo walked through the strange vision. It looked like they had passed through a waterfall. They went to the present-day Mydia, holding her. In the distance, Daina heard Filo crying.

"You felt alone," Vaan said, his voice rippling like water. "We can all relate to that. But what you did, how could you just give yourself over to him?"

Mydia's short ears drooped, and she folded her arms across her breasts. "I wanted to believe I wasn't alone. But he could not hear me. He had grown deaf to such pleas."

"Deaf to love?" Penelo whispered.

Wings tight to his body, Llyud also folded his arms.

"Feolthanos isn't one of the occuria," Vaan mumbled. "What is he?"

A wry laughed escaped Mydia. "Feolthanos was the leader of the aegyl, once."

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Greetings and salutations, Dear Readers, long overdue! I've missed you all so much (I missed Daina too. Is that weird?). I hope you're well . . . and I do hope at least some of you have waited around for me, hee. The idea for this chapter came out of nowhere the other day - I finally figured out how to move forward! I'm halfway through the next chapter as well, so that should be ready to post within the next week._

_Reviewer Thanks__! (holeeee COW, the last time I updated was SEPTEMBER? I am sooooooo sooooorrrrrryyyyy!) **Darwin** __(I realized I was totally avoiding the issue as well as Daina. So I tried to be Basch, and this is what happened . . __. Thanks for the bump in the right direction, chica!), **FinalAnimalMoonE **(I almost think I should write a synopsis every time it takes me five months to update, lmao! Thanks for sticking with me, I love you for it!),and **ElTangoDeRoxanne **(Nope, you got it spot on! No worries about taking any time to review, my friend - I'm just hugely grateful that you do!)._

_A Very Humble and Apologetic for Being A Slacker_

_Anne_


	18. Adding Insult to Injury

As one, both Vaan and Llyud shouted a surprised protest. Vaan formulated words first. "Then why is he stealing their anima? Why is he trying to control them?"

"And how can he still be alive after all these years?" Penelo added, awed.

"Feolthanos is bound by a magick that grants him eternal life. Free him from it. End his suffering." Mydia's golden eyes were clear, but then they fogged over and she sank to the ground, bringing Fran, who was holding her, with her.

Vaan's face was gray. "You want us to kill him."

"To live without one's anima is not truly to live," she whispered patiently.

"Okay," Vaan said with an air of helplessness. "We'll do what we can."

"Thank you," Mydia breathed. Like Mist, she vanished.

Fran's voice was as dark as an occurian heart. "Her sins still bind her to this world."

At that, Vaan gave an angry snort. "Feolthanos used Mydia to try and take revenge against Ivalice."

"I guess even after all these years he still hasn't forgiven the occuria for driving the aegyl away. That's why he turned Mydia into the Judge of Wings," Kytes offered. "Mydia just wanted to be together with the person she loved. So how'd that go so wrong?"

Vaan was having none of it. "All of this is Feolthanos's fault," he said viciously. "We have to find him, and stop him once and for all!"

"But how?" Penelo asked, perplexed.

"Mydia's anima will guide us," Llyud said. He reached out, touched the air with a puzzled expression. "It calls to us in the skies above Lemurés."

"But what about the last auralith?" Penelo reminded him.

Llyud rubbed absently at his bare chest. Daina wondered what emotions he was sensing now. "It's strange, but I sense it is there, also."

"All right. That's something. Let's go." Vaan led the way through the hollow tree. Nearly everyone turned to follow, each one sporting an injury or three, every head suffused with the things Mydia had charged to them.

"Basch, a moment," Daina said.

He heard, and acquiesced. Everyone else filed down the mountain, leaving husband and wife alone in the city of dead. It was a terrible thing to see, all those fallen viera, slain in the one place in Ivalice that had belonged to them. Of the yarhi, of course, nothing remained.

It was almost as if their mission here, to stop Mydia and Feolthanos from continuing this war, was but a brief interruption. Daina winced, her bitten leg trembling under her weight and her scratches throbbing, though she refused to sit. She was bloody and filthy, but to return to the _Galbana_ with this unfinished business between them was unthinkable.

Basch studied her, his face closed. Tired, maybe; reluctant, certainly; polite as always, he waited for her to speak first.

Where to begin?

Back there on Giza, when they'd first sought information on the person seeking Lemurés, one young man in the patrol had recognized Basch. Daina had heard him eagerly asking his captain about the truth of the scandals surrounding the Landisian, but his superior had shut him down with: "We have sworn never to speak of Captain Basch. He willingly sacrificed his own honor so that peace might take root." A pause. Then, lower, "I do not know that I could do something so noble as that."

Noble. That was Basch. Skilled, intelligent, and kind. Someone she still, to this day, looked up to.

"I tried to tell you," she said as neutrally as she could, the subject needing no other introduction, "but the time never seemed right. This is . . . big." She faltered, searching for the right words, those that rang true. "Too big for me. I never wanted . . . I didn't think –" She stopped, getting angry in spite of herself. "I'm too young to be someone's mother." The truth, Daina. What was the truth? _I wanted more time with you, just the two of us_.

"My mother wasn't much older than you," Basch said, not hearing what she didn't say, a faint smile marring the sensuous lines of his mouth.

It wasn't the not-quite-a-smile she loved. It was a derisive smirk, more like a sneer of Noah's. His mother, sickly, young, raising not one but two boys by herself. She'd never gotten well and died of her illness, but her sons had grown into fine men because of her.

"So you don't think I'm cut out for this, either," she said, stung. "I thank you for your courtesy."

He sighed. "Lady, you have a singular ability to twist things into knots that utterly baffles me."

"No, I have the ability to see things as they are, not as some romanticized version of them."

"Then is this how things are?" His rough voice shivered through her, as sharp as when he spoke to enemies. "Instead of sharing your hardship with me, you chose to keep it to yourself. Instead of trusting me, you ostracized me. Instead of asking me how I feel about this –"

"That's just it!" she interrupted angrily. "I can't ask you. It's already happened and can't be undone!"

"And that means I am useless? Foolish girl, what were you thinking when you swore to walk through this life together with me?" Basch closed the distance between them. He grabbed her wrist, yanking her nearer. She gasped at the sudden pain. "Do you think this affects only you? I am to be a father! If it were up to you, I might never have known."

He'd never treated her like this, never physically hurt her as he was doing now. The tiny bones in her wrist were sending pain signals shooting up her arm.

"I didn't think that it affected only me," she cried. She fought his grip, twisting her arm, pushing against his armored chest, but he was as implacable as an adamantine statue. "I can't _separate_ myself from it, Basch. This thing – this person – is a _part_ of me. It is me. You're an unknown quantity, don't you see?"

Abruptly, he released her, almost flung her from him. She stumbled, falling to one knee as her injured leg gave out. Understanding filled his face at last.

When he spoke, it was with the dry, anguished echoes of their slaughtered homelands. "Then, to protect it, you have left me."

Aghast, Daina gaped at him. No words came. Was that what she had done?

Roda Volcano had had enough of its visitors. It hiccupped and belched, rapidly replacing the fading presence of living viera and the destroyed paling with its own noxious fumes. And still the two ex-knights stayed, a chasm of what-could-have-beens swirling between them.

She loved Basch, more intensely than she'd cared for anything in Ivalice, but when confronted with a choice between him and the unborn child . . . she'd chosen the latter. Her anxiety had always centered on the child, which was not the problem as she'd first believed, but the precious thing to protect. If he rejected it, she could not bear it. So, she had rejected him first.

After a moment, a moment Daina did not use to disagree, Basch lifted a mailed hand to his eyes. "It seems that there are still things you can teach me, and one is that love is not enough. Is it."

Tears streaked her face, hardly felt in the volcano's heat. "I gave up so much in Rabanastre," she whispered. "So much that it hurts. But I don't care. It wasn't a struggle. I wanted to be with you. More than I can possibly express."

"I believe it," he said. His gaze, revealed when his hand dropped, seemed shattered, as if he was seeing the past and the present, all mixed up and jagged like a pile of broken glass. "I knew what I asked of you."

"I know." No sound came out, but he heard.

"We are no strangers to sacrifice, you and I. I had thought that I could shield you from more, but I failed to ask you if that was what you wanted. I see now that it was not. Lady, I love you. Your strength and independence, these things I love, even if they take you from me."

His breath caught, a funny little hitch. "This is what you want? To go on alone?"

She nodded, weaving her arms tight about her middle, as if holding her shrunken world inside herself. It was better this way, really. No more worrying. No more anxiety. Only herself to hurt or help with the choices she made.

"Then it is folly to linger. You will always be dear to me, but I will do as you ask."

A judge magister. A knight. Courteous to his core. He executed one of his elegant bows and trudged across the Feol Warren, abandoning her to all of her pain and heartbreak.

It really felt like that. Like part of her heart left with him, leaving her bleeding internally. She collapsed, her sobs tearing through her chest and throat until her consciousness shut down and she passed out.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Whoo, short chapter. I'm all confused by my own characters. I originally planned Basch=thrilled. Didn't happen. Then I planned Positively Evil Argument That Burns Holes In Our Ears. Also didn't happen. Then I stopped planning and this is what happened. What do you think of it? I'm on the fence, myself, but I'm already writing the next chapter and it seems to be going well. So, until then, your input is appreciated!_

_Reviewer Thanks__! **ElTangoDeRoxanne** __(Couldn't have been more excited than I was to see your review come through! Thank you thank you thank you heart back atcha! I'm so happy you're still patiently waiting on me to finish Daina's tale. I'm determined to do it. For cereal. By the way, playing FFXIII-2 and I can't help thinking of you . . . Snow with his black trench coat and summonable monsters . . . lol!__)_

_Anne_


	19. Fallacy

Daina dreamed of doves.

When she was little, refilling the feed pans in the dovecote had been one of her chores. She used to love the way the birds would flock around her, landing on her shoulders, her arms, and her head, making a sort of hooded cape with their hot, heavy bodies. Up close like that, their coos and the peculiar _fwap_ of their wings had been deafening. They were such pretty things, tame enough to eat out of her hand. But if she wasn't careful, they could nip and scratch hard enough to draw blood.

Daina dreamed of flying.

She was a dove, winging through a softly overcast sky. Concealed by the clouds, a golden eagle dove for her. Silent. Deadly. Swift. Its distorted, indistinct shadow made her swerve in surprise. And then she saw him.

He was beautiful. The most beautiful thing the dove had ever seen.

Mesmerized, she turned in her flight, raising her delicate red claws to meet the killer, leaving herself vulnerable. The eagle collided with her, bigger and older than she. His yellow claws caught and entwined with hers. Yet, he did not strike.

The eagle and the dove spiraled across the sky, wings outspread, white and gold against the endless gray. Wind-tossed and in freefall, they sang of their impossible love until the clouds swallowed them.

* * *

"If you ask me, the aegyl and the sky pirates are all out of their minds," Vaan complained loudly. He came clattering into the _Galbana_'s sky saloon, looking more disheveled than ever. "Is auracite really worth turning against their own?"

"They seemed happy enough just stealing it up to now," Kytes puffed, struggling to keep up with the bigger boy. "Why the change of heart?"

"They lose that which the aegyl have begun to regain – their anima," Fran answered.

Daina and Ashe, having finished their lunch, scooted over to make room on the bench for her. The viera sat, her timeless face troubled, and she crossed her legs.

"What has happened?" Daina asked her, but Vaan was the one who answered.

"Aegyl fighting alongside sky pirates," he groaned, scrubbing both hands through his hair. "And Rikken's been found."

Llyud smoothed a stray feather on one wing. "Whatever the cause, a bitter war looms before us."

"The game is the same," Balthier said. He held out his hands and dropped his voice. "Only the stakes have changed."

Vaan flopped onto a bench, holding his head. "Yeah. We've got to save everybody from themselves."

They were all there, except for Basch. Sera was present, perched on the table at Larsa's shoulder, her dainty feet propped against the bench. They sat very close to each other, seemingly unaware of it. The thought made Daina happy, in the way that happiness sometimes brings tears.

She had learned that, after bringing her back to the ship from the Feol Warren, Basch had gone somewhere to be alone, and now no one knew where he was. Even the stowaways and refugees that Vaan had been collecting had joined them, adding their noise over the end of the meal. Kytes and Filo were arguing rather louder than anyone else.

Surreptitiously, Daina put her hand to her belly. Sera had taken care of her wounds, and had assured her that her baby had survived. She'd prescribed bed rest, also, but Daina couldn't do that. Not after she'd fought so hard for the right to be here.

Not after she'd hurt Basch so badly.

"We need to go here!" Filo was yelling. "See, right here on the map. Eternity's March." She jabbed at the map Larsa had laid on the table. "Llyud says Mydia's anima is leading him there, to the – what did you call it?"

"The Gates of Shattered Time," Llyud answered. He had a mellifluous voice, Daina thought, almost song-like. It suited his otherworldly beauty much better than the inflectionless way he used to speak. "It is but a myth, but she calls to me of the way to the Keep of Forgotten Time in the skies above Lemurés."

"But what about Rikken?" Kytes argued. "He's out there alone. We can't just let people keep fighting over the auracite! We have to help him!"

"We must honor Mydia's last wish," Fran said, her gaze severe.

"Please, stop. We can't do both at once," Ashe said in an attempt to interject some reason. She brushed her bangs to the side. "Either we fly off to aid a sky pirate, or we confront Feolthanos as Mydia wanted. Which is more important?"

"Should we put it to a vote?" Penelo suggested.

"Rikken knows something about this," Vaan grumbled. Then, when nine or ten voices rose at once, he stood and looked around at them all, waving his hands for silence. "Think about it. It's not just the aegyl, but the sky pirates who went to Lemurés. They're all being controlled by Feolthanos. Mydia was using the sky pirates to find the auraliths for her. If it weren't for Rikken, who knows what would've happened to them by now."

"I must speak with him," Larsa said somberly. He shifted, his arm brushing Sera's knee.

"Yes. He has a lot to answer for," Daina said.

"Are you suggesting we split up?" Balthier crossed his arms and appraised her. "Risky."

"But it might be the fastest course. I propose to accompany His Excellency, for he must not be permitted to go alone."

"We can't do let you do that," Ashe said. She turned to Larsa, her hands clasped in her skirted lap. "The _Galbana_ is the only ship that can take us to Feolthanos –"

"But it can be called with this," Balthier said. He took Daina's hand and placed his piece of the Cache of Glabados in it. "I'll want that back, mind you, but when you've finished your errand, you can meet us there."

Daina could only look her gratitude at the sky pirate. What she'd said was true. Someone had to bring Rikken and his men back to Ivalice and put this nonsense to rest.

As for that someone being her, well . . . The more distance she could put between herself and Basch right now, the better.

"After, how are they to find us?" Ashe wasn't giving in so easily. "What ship will they take to Rikken?"

At that, one of the refugees stepped forward, an imposing aegyl feathered in gray-black. If he were hume, he might have been the same age as Basch. Being aegyl, who could say for sure? "We were talking with Bask," he said, "and we agreed we should thank you for all you've done for us."

"Who's Bask?" Vaan screwed up his nose, staring at the aegyl man. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard any of your names before."

The aegyl and the sky pirates introduced themselves, including, Daina noted with a flare of surprised (and surprising) pleasure – her friend the insecure seeq.

"Y'can call me Vazz," he said shyly, rubbing the back of his hand under his chin, and she reflected ruefully that she'd been too arrogant to ask him his name before. A lesson, this. "And this here's my wife."

A viera, her silver hair bobbed around her ears, stepped coolly forward, allowing the seeq to wrap a thick arm around her waist, which was as high as he could reach.

"Your . . . wife. Right," Vaan said, and Daina almost laughed at his expression.

Vazz chuckled, _bwee heehee_! "You don't believe me when I say she's my wife, do you? But it's all true, every word! Love knows no boundaries, that's what they say. If she and I are not proof of that, I don't know what is!"

The viera smiled and caressed his short, bristle-brush hair, right above the stunted green horn.

All laughter left Daina. What was that she'd been dreaming, while Basch had carried her unknowing down the mountain, and the elixirs Sera had given her had done their work? Something about birds. Maybe something about Basch. She put cold fingers to her forehead, but couldn't remember.

"You stand apart from the aegyl and the other sky pirates," another aegyl said to Vaan, this one the color of teak. "But you do not stand alone. Mydia's anima will guide us. It lies within the World of Illusion. The way is open."

"You sense it too," Fran stated, and the teak one nodded.

"This has become a second home to us," a third aegyl said, referring to the _Galbana_.

"Just wanted to thank you is all, kupo," the pirate named Bask added. He lifted his eye patch with a paw, winked, and settled it over his other eye, crimson pompon bobbing.

"That's the right of it," Vazz said happily. He snuffled wetly and patted his flabby white belly. The nihopalaoa was still half hidden in the folds of his neck. "We'll gladly give the lady and the little one a ride!"

* * *

In the end, Vaan absolutely refused to let them go alone. He turned _Galbana_ over to Balthier's use. The repairs to Bask's ship were complete ("I'm trying to do my part," Cu Sith said proudly, crouched amidst her formidable collection of Artificer tools). It wasn't big enough to hold all of the refuges, so only four came with them: Bask, Vazz, his wife, and an aegyl woman named Fye who seemed the most in tune with the trail Mydia's anima had left to them.

"You better wait for us!" Vaan yelled after the others as they prepared to launch.

"Come back soon, Vaan!" Penelo called.

The goodbyes were noisy, but Daina was quick to end them. Leading the way into Bask's ship, she took one final look over her shoulder. The last she saw of Basch was his cloak as he boarded the _Galbana_ with Ashe.

"It was good to fight at your side again, Majesty," he said to her. "I will not leave it until this is finished."

Then they were aboard, and he was gone.

* * *

Could she live without air to breathe?

Daina sat alone on her bunk in the room she shared with Sera, Fye, and the viera, who didn't speak much to anyone and whose name she still didn't know. Her dinner was going cold on a tray. Elbows propped on her knees, she held her face in her hands. It was too dark to see.

She began to sing.

_Why_? she asked herself. _Why must I always be at odds with him_?

What he'd said to Ashe at their parting, could he have known how much it would hurt her? Was it in truth a reproof for what she'd done?

Love could not be turned on and off as easily as a light switch. Not that she'd really believed so, but a person will tell herself anything to seem strong. Especially in front of the one she loved.

_Lies can never unmake the truth_. It was something her father had said, many years ago.

Her voice broke, faltered, and died. Regret slid down her face and splashed in her lap. She began to gasp, suffocating on the silence.

Because she didn't know how to breathe without him.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN._

_Hello, dearest friends! It is I, the girl who started a story and LET IT HANG for ONE YEAR AND SEVEN MONTHS. Is it even feasible for me to beg for forgiveness? I'm sure many of you have moved on and forgotten me (for which I can't blame you, cough cough). I am so sorry._

I AM SO SORRY!

_Anyway, the truth of it is, life got in the way. Again. I forgot about Daina and the predicament I left her in. I was shocked to come back and realize I'd gotten eighteen chapters into this sequel. Eighteen! How did I do that? Some of it isn't half bad, if I do say so myself. Some of it could use a lot of work, but still . . . I don't think it's worth abandoning. So here we are, another chapter in and the angst could about drown you. LOL!_

_In related news, I've edited ASftP and FAMP and re-uploaded the chapters. The story hasn't changed, but I've tried to make both flow better (and frankly, make more sense). It was my hope that anyone who was reading this almost two years ago (uuuggghhh, so embarrassing) could go back and read it again if needed._

_Reviewer Thanks__! **ElTangoDeRoxanne** (Normally I don't like to give anything away, but I will say: This story has the happiest ending I could imagine. I love my Daina. And this is why I've come back to keep writing - so she can have her happily ever after (yeah, I buy into that, because I'm just a hopeless romantic). No matter how bad it seems now, I won't let it stay that way! *ferocious writer face*), and **Nameless-Sinner (**Eh, hehehe! I'm not sure what to say to that. This chapter is probably worse.) Thank you both, nineteen . . . months . . . later . . . I'm still so grateful!_

_I probably shouldn't admit this, either, but this chapter was so hard for me to write. And I don't even know why! *pouts* I wrote it and deleted it SIX TIMES. This is version seven. TT_TT Again and again, my sincerest apologies for being so dumb and not updating in forever. I'm. So. Sorry._

_If you've stuck with me, won't you please review? Even just for a hello? I miss you all so much._

_All my love,_

_Anne_


	20. Crime and Punishment

"The map says it's named 'Cebe,' " Larsa said, puzzled, the crumbling paper taut between his gloved hands. An unwelcoming island of Lemurés floated aft. Word was Rikken had been headed there. Their destination was wreathed in its own collection of storm clouds.

"It's the 'Isle of Treasure,' kupo," Bask asserted. He crossed his tiny arms across his vested, furry chest and scowled.

"Whatever it is, we've found him," Vaan said grimly. "There."

He pointed.

The ship swooped in low toward gray cliffs. Steep, rugged, and abrupt, they rose out of a rocky plain. Falling rain turned their aggressive sides a slick, deceptive black.

Here and there, a colorful pirate clung like a growth of large mushrooms. More than one of them held a pink crystal besides a cutlass or a blunderbuss.

Below, at the foot of the cliffs, three familiar shapes loomed out of the curtain of rain: Rikken, nearly as big as his former master Reddas; Elza, her riotous yellow hair shrinking under the onslaught of water; and Raz, his blue coat frayed at the hem.

"Rikken!" Vaan shouted into the wind, hanging from the opening door as the gangplank slid smoothly out at his feet. Bask, turning the glossair rings to provide reverse thrust, leveled out and landed, gently as the formation of dew on a lily petal.

"Please stay here, Excellency, Sera," Daina said, preparing to debark. "This shouldn't take long."

"Stay safe, My Lady," Sera said, her gaze on the nearly perpendicular cliffs peppered with yowling pirates.

Rikken spared them a one-eyed glance as Vaan jumped to the ground. Almost half his face was covered by a blue leather mask, his long brown hair tangled and lying like serpents along his muscled shoulders. His bare, scarred chest gleamed in the rain.

"You again?" he asked in his rough Balfonheim accent. One-handed, he whirled his sword, cutting rain out of the air. "Keep your nose in your own business!"

Daina, following Vaan into the rain, could not stop a cry as the icy water struck her, soaking her in seconds.

Catching sight of her, Rikken grinned, white teeth flashing in his brown, weather-beaten face. "Though as long as you're here, maybe you can help."

Vaan pushed his sopping hair off his forehead. "Well, which is it?"

"There's a fight a-brewin'," Elza said unnecessarily. Her ruined velvet jacket clung to her ample curves, and the rain glistened on her bare, shapely thighs. She blew a kiss at the pirates flinging catcalls from the ledges. Swarming along the cliff face, sahagin yarhi leaped out of the rain, tails thrashing, flippered feet digging into stone with needle-sharp claws.

"Dabbling in the summoning arts now, are we?" Rikken bellowed, incensed, and then leaped aside as a sky pirate fired at him. The shot embedded itself in the rock and mud with wet thuds.

"We don't take kindly to claim jumpers, kupo!" the pirate shrilled. "This treasure's ours!"

Vaan unstrapped his durandal. "Need us to save your skins again?"

"They don't fight fair, the cowards!" Raz yelped. With the way the rain plastered his floppy hat brim to his doglike face, only his black nose could be seen between it and his coat collar. "You don't see us hiding behind conjured pets!"

His parrot squawked in agreement. Or maybe it was just mad it was so wet.

Rikken waved them forward with a massive arm. "Perhaps you could lend a hand or two." His good eye rolled toward Daina roguishly. "We wouldn't want too much help, though. We've our pride to consider."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied dryly.

"We fight our way, and you fight yours. Try and remember that, eh?" With a roar, Rikken gathered his muscled legs beneath him and launched up the nearest ledge with the ease of a bull abaddon.

Not to be outdone, Daina scaled the cliff, meeting the rush of three blue-armored sahagin in the deluge. She fended off the beak of one by wedging her steel-toed boot in its jaws, grabbed another by its horny crest, yanked, and broke its neck, and stuck the masamune down the third's gullet as it charged her. All four landed with a crunch and splash, back on the plain. In a burst of Mist, the yarhi vanished, and Daina was already targeting two more.

It felt so good to be doing something, to act rather than react. They'd been wrong-footed ever since they first saw Mydia in Paramina Rift – now was her chance to fight on her own terms. Daina shrugged off a water attack and cleaved a sahagin in two.

As always, her mind seemed to clear the harder she fought. The iga blade swatted the fleshy beak of another yarhi aside and then the masamune lopped off its head. It seemed none could touch her this day, and she hacked her way through the yarhi hordes with a fierce grin.

All of her doubts, regrets, and anxiety burned away as if beneath the hottest sun. Once the mental fog retreated, she could see every last thing she'd done wrong since she'd found out she was with child. Every word, every action, and her final, disgusting loss of temper.

How could she have withheld the news of their baby from Basch for so long? How could she have been that selfish, to deprive him of a single, blessed moment?

There was no answer except pride. Pride she certainly had, undeserved and unfitting for a former knight of House Nabradia. She hadn't been able to let it go, and had lashed out at the one person with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Daina chuckled to herself as she hamstrung one of the slimy beasts. It went down, shrieking, and then vanished as the masamune found its brain through its eye socket. She didn't think her soul-searching funny, exactly, but it was as if she was suddenly an outside observer, calm and indifferent. Her temper had always been her biggest failing.

One thing was blindingly true: She loved Basch more than the heart beating inside her chest. And, in spite of what she'd yesterday believed, she could not, would not, go through life without him.

She would go to Destiny's March. She would make it through the Gates of Shattered Time. And she would follow him into the Keep of Forgotten Time.

_Lady, I love you._

The four most perfect words in the universe, and they were hers to cherish. No matter what happened.

It was about time she swallowed her abyssal pride and asked his forgiveness. The hope that he would grant it made her feel as powerful as an esper, and she rode the high all the way to the top of the cliffs.

The pirates whooped and hollered their defiance, until someone began to scream as Rikken flung him off the cliff and his body performed a slow somersault in the rain, showing him just how far he had to fall.

The battle didn't last long after that one, horrific death. Elza and Daina wrapped up most of the yarhi while Rikken and Vaan seized the auracite. Raz didn't do much more than tie up their prisoners, but it was raining so hard no one was complaining.

They tromped into the airship in one big, dripping group. Elza complained bitterly about what the rain had done to her clothes, but she stopped quite abruptly when Larsa met them in the corridor, his face solemn.

All three pirates dropped to their knees.

"I got this," Vaan muttered, and, with the help of Vazz, escorted their prisoners to the brig to cool their heels.

Larsa looked to Daina. Nodded once. Then he said, "Please, come with me. All of you."

The pirates exchanged their own looks, but obediently squelched along the corridors until they arrived at the mess. Everyone but Daina took a seat.

She took a breath, shook her wet hair back, and then stood at Larsa's side.

"Rikken of Balfonheim," she said, and the brawny pirate looked up, raindrops caught in the stubble on his jaw. "Due to your suspicious activities on Lemurés you have been charged with treason. How do you plead?"

"And what activities might those be?" he asked, dismissing her question.

"The Judge of Wings. What do you know of her?"

Deliberately, Rikken lowered his foot to the floor and leaned forward, his eye never leaving Larsa's. "Judge of Wings, eh? I might know a thing or two."

"I'm waiting," Larsa returned.

The boy's face could have been carved from alabaster, lovely but lifeless. Rikken held his gaze, lower jaw belligerently outthrust, but then he sat back again with an explosive, humorless laugh.

"What I know is that I wish I didn't know what it is I knew," he said. "In fact, I'd rather not discuss it."

"Then, the First Auracite Cup Scavenger Hunt."

"The tourney?" Rikken raised his eyebrow. "What manner of sky pirate looks treasure in the eye and turns away?"

"No sky pirate at all," Elza answered him.

"A sorry excuse for a pirate is what that is," Raz chimed in faithfully.

"This scavenger hunt has seen its share of death, gentlemen," Daina said sternly. "All for the sake of shiny toys."

Rikken, arms crossed over his chest, propped a dirty sandal on the mess table and threw back his shaggy head. His good eye was steely. "It would seem you take us for petty thieves, when in fact our goal is much the same."

The boy emperor was all quiet politeness. "How so?"

"Dogs waggin' their tails as this mock magister tosses them scraps," Elza said sulkily. "It pains the eyes to look on! A black mark on every honest pirate's name."

"A sadder sight were never seen!" Raz mourned. The nu mou's feet stuck out straight in front of him, like a child's.

Rikken threw up a big hand. Eye closed, he spoke irritably to the ceiling. "If it be auracite they're after, let 'em find it themselves! Havin' your treasure handed to you's no way for a pirate to live."

"A treasure worth finding is worth finding yourself?" Daina cradled her black-sleeved elbows in her hands. She thought she now understood some of Ashe's imperious frowns in years past; she struggled not to smile, which forced her mouth into a disproving line. The sky pirates may have been acting wrongly, caught up in their own treasure-fever, but at least it was clear they hadn't done so by Mydia's orders. Their behavior was, at best, an awkward good.

"Precisely!" Rikken grinned, unabashed. "And that's the truth our friends have forgotten." He jerked his thumb at his chest. "It's up to us to lead them back to the straight and narrow, and scuttle this judge's plans. A nobler cause you'll not find, Your Lordship."

"Perhaps," Larsa said, his mild tones giving nothing away. "I might be persuaded to lighten the terms of your punishment for knowledge."

If this was meant as a threat, Rikken ignored it altogether. "Knowledge is well and good, but treasure is so much better," he said devilishly.

Larsa didn't miss a beat. "The Judge of Wings."

But Rikken had had enough. "I'll talk no more of that unjust imposter!"

"Very well," Larsa sighed. "I shall speak plainly. If it were to become known to the Ministry that I hold you here, their actions are guaranteed. For the crimes you have perpetrated against the foreign land of Lemurés, you three will not see the light of day for many years to come." He leaned forward, blue eyes steady. "Call off the tournament, gentlemen. Take your pirates and return to Balfonheim. This is no place for you."

A heartbeat. Two. Three. Slowly, Rikken nodded. He knew what was being offered, and by whom.

Satisfied, Larsa stood. "Judge Praeities, I leave the rest to you."

"Excellency." Daina bowed as Larsa stood and then left the mess. They could hear his boots ringing against metal, receding down the corridor.

"Uh, the rest?" Rikken, Elza, and Raz blinked at her.

Daina took Larsa's vacated seat. The trouble was deciding how to punish them. She studied all three. Once, they had helped Lady Ashe in her quest to reclaim her kingdom. Now, they ruled the sky pirates. Monkey see, monkey do?

"By the order of Imperial Law, you are hereby fined one scavenger hunt entry fee –"

"Ah, is that all?" Rikken sighed.

"– each," she finished, and he sat back. She glanced at Raz. "Parrot included."

The pirates groaned.

"You are to return to Ivalice immediately. This ship is prepared to escort you."

"Aye." Rikken bowed his head.

"You've quite a landmine to clean up back home, gentlemen," she said, standing and gesturing them to precede her from the mess. "Be to it."

Just then, Vaan trotted up, and it was as if nothing had happened. With a happy roar, Rikken grabbed up the loudly protesting boy in a strangling bear hug, and Elza's red lips curved in a smile. Raz reached up and patted Vaan's ankle.

"It were good seein' you, Vaan!" he said, wagging his tail in a friendly-like manner. "A right proper sky pirate you've grown into. Lord Reddas, rest his soul, would be proud."

"Good . . . to see you . . . too . . ." he wheezed when Rikken finally put him down. Red-faced, he looked up at Daina. "How . . . 'd it go?"

She smiled reassuringly. "I think soon our southern shores will be well in hand."

Elza tossed her head with a _humph, _hip cocked like her rifle. "Soon we'll be calling _her_ Your Honor. Judge this and judge that – a pirate's meant to be free," she muttered under her breath, although they all heard.

Raz, casting a sidelong glance at her, quickly said, "We're doin' right, not to worry. Balfonheim is bein' well looked after."

"I'm nothing if not reasonable," Rikken said, laughing.

"She fined you, didn't she?" Vaan asked flatly.

Still laughing, Rikken gave Daina a clumsy, mocking bow. "I'm out fully five hundred thousand gil. Generous to a fault, that's what I am." He clapped Vaan on the shoulder. "There's word abroad you've your hands full with some foul menace. You can worry about settling your debt once you're done with that. But I'll chase you through both underworlds if I have to, so don't get any ideas!

"And now," he announced to his crew, slapping his hands together, "we best be leapin' off to the next spot of treasure."

Daina let them go. They could not afford to leave Balfonheim leaderless now, and to push too hard would cause Rikken and his men to break with them completely. A fine and a warning were all she felt authorized to lay to them. She just hoped that they would keep their word.

When they were gone, Daina grinned at Vaan. "Settling your debt?"

"Don't ask," he said with a disgruntled sigh.

* * *

**_A/N_**_: Greetings and salutations, dearest friends! How are you today?_

_So, I had another chapter in the works. Surprise! It's just like old times, lol. I'm still sighing over how awkward this story is progressing, mostly because of my insistence on using game script. It's so stilted, bah! Still, I chose to set this sequel in the RW game because, for all its restrictions because of its format, it provides such beautiful closure for all of the characters._

_Except Daina, of course, but that's where I come in._

_I wrote ASftP because I believed with all my heart that the story was Basch's. RW belongs to Vaan. There's no disputing that. Yet, Daina has an end to her tale. I'm gonna make it happen!_

_Please leave a review, okay? Pretty please with sugar on top! Or maybe coffee. Who likes coffee? No, I know. COFFEE ICE CREAM. Man's greatest invention._

_Anne_


	21. Truth Shrouded in Mist

Flying higher than any aegyl's wings could take them, it seemed the _Galbana_ rose into the stars themselves.

When Vaan had shown her how to activate the Cache of Glabados, she'd thought of Basch, solidified all of her longing into her thoughts, and raised the auracite high. It had glowed like a beacon, and within hours, the _Galbana_ returned for them.

The two pirate captains, Bask and Rikken, had waved farewell and then begun their long journey back to Ivalice.

"Great, let's get going," Vaan had said, pulling himself along _Galbana_'s gangways with barely suppressed impatience.

"Vaan, I'm sure they're fine," Daina had said, loping along behind them.

"Of course they are." He'd slowed, but his face was that of a child, alone and scared. "I know that. But still, I want to be there."

Tomaj had strolled up to them, looking around the sky saloon with regret. "Almost time to say goodbye to my airship. It's not gonna be easy."

At that, Vaan had snapped back to his old self. "Since when is this your airship?"

"Who else's could it be?" Tomaj had demanded, aggrieved. "After all the blood, sweat, and tears I've poured into keeping her up and running."

"I gotta admit, we couldn't have made it without you." Vaan had punched Tomaj in the shoulder. It wasn't until the boy had left that Tomaj dropped his grin and winced, rubbing his arm.

Now, they all stood together on the bridge, watching the sky darken above them until all they could see was the millions of stars cutting across space in a great, rainbow swathe. Standing so that their wings formed a multi-hued ring, the aegyl aboard communed with the Cache of Glabados and guided _Galbana_ along the river of anima – not just Mydia's anima, but thousands of aegyl souls were screaming for release, according to a shaken Fye. For her part, Daina could see nothing but the fleeing sunlight of Ivalice and Lemurés below them.

Tomaj, Nono, and Cu Sith were watching their ascent with unrestrained wonder. Larsa and Sera had no words for the untamed beauty above them, which sent white and blue highlights sliding along their black hair.

When the Gates of Shattered Time appeared, Daina and Vaan alone were able to tear their eyes away from their dreamlike spires, the pink and peach clouds of a false sunrise coiling about its front steps, the violet of evening that poured from every orifice. They readied their weapons, stocked up on potions and other items, adjusted the fit of their armor.

"You ready for this?" Vaan asked her. He flicked his thistledown hair out of his eyes.

Daina finished zipping closed the high collar of her judicer's coat. Everything was in place, the masamune and the iga blade snug in their sheaths, her restoratives nestled in the red pouch strapped to her right leg. She touched her belly briefly, a quick pass that might have been meant to check the security of her sword belt across her hips. "Yes."

_Soon_, she told her baby. _We'll see him soon. And we will win back our peace. I swear it_.

Even here, in a non-place surrounded by vacuum, the Mist ran thick. It reached out for them the moment they stepped off _Galbana_, curling around their knees, getting in their eyes. Vaan threw up his arm so that his venetian shield covered his lower face and, durandal in hand, ran full tilt up the Gates's stairs. Daina sprinted up after him. Within seconds, they passed through the Gates and entered the Keep of Forgotten Time. The stars and the _Galbana _vanished, and even the Keep's walls shimmered like a mirage.

Straining against the curtaining Mist, she tried to determine if any beasts were near, but so far, none had accosted them.

"Know what this is like?" she shouted ahead. The Mist dampened her words, slowed them down, but it was a small nuisance. Vaan turned back, curious. "It reminds me of the Feywood."

"Yeah, it does," he said, still covering his nose and mouth. He blinked a little, his eyes catching the Mist-light and sparkling like glass marbles. "This is the World of Illusion. It's where yarhi come from."

"You've been here before?" she asked. All of her senses were muddled by the twinkling Mist. One moment, Vaan was walking next to her, and then the air gave a ripple and a heave, and he was four steps behind. She once walked right at herself and passed through her own reflection, going the other direction.

"Yeah. Well, no, not _here_." Vaan knelt, searching out some sort of clue as to where their friends had gone. He shook his head in defeat, which set all sorts of lights glittering in his hair, showering down his body to shatter against his silver greaves. "Velis took us and showed us part of it when we were still looking for Mydia. I'm pretty sure this is the same place. Penelo!"

His strangled cry fell as flat as a book on the stone floor.

Leached of all color, the small Rabanastran girl darted right between them, slicing a second smile in the neck of a grinning humbaba. Both then vanished.

"Wait, what – is that Balthier?"

Several feet above them, also in black and white, the sky pirate stood. Upside-down. His lips were moving. Ashe, hanging in midair, swung her tournesol through an axebeak, cutting it nearly in two, but Balthier took no notice of her and laughed soundlessly, his eyes mocking.

"What is going on?" Daina wondered, baffled.

"It's a memory," Vaan explained. "I think. See, that's what the World of Illusion is: Memories. The yarhi, they're memories, too. Penelo and the others – they were here, and left their memories behind. The fact that they're _not_ still here means they got through. C'mon, let's –"

But he got no farther than that. One second he was there, the next, gone. Daina threw out her hands, hoping he was just hidden from sight, but the Mist spun, and she was standing in the Glabados Ruins.

Two monochromatic aegyl looked at the shining Cache atop its pedestal, a captured star.

One of them spoke, his accent unfamiliar. "You mean to leave this stone in Ivalice?"

"My wife and child cannot live among the islands of the sky," the other responded. He struck a kingly figure, more decorated than the other, and Daina realized this was Feolthanos as he must have been thousands of years ago. "There is no more I can do for them."

"I am sorry."

Feolthanos shook his majestic head. "Don't be. It is as it must be. This . . . this is my anima."

"My Lord?"

Feolthanos put his hand over the Cache, dampening its light. "I've etched my heart and anima into this auracite. It is a link between souls. A bond between me and my family."

"Then you leave it as a gift for them?" his steward asked, clearly confused.

"Not exactly," Feolthanos said softly. "This anima is –"

The vision ended with a shout, and, although he was no longer there, Balthier spoke as if from underwater. "What was that all about?"

"Vaan," Daina called, spinning circles. More of the Keep swam into view, as did hordes of yarhi drawing closer. "Vaan!"

"This was all some trick?" Ashe asked through a static-filled radio.

"I'm here!" Vaan yelled. "Stay there, I'm coming back for you."

"The memories we saw were true enough," Fran said in Daina's ear, her voice syrup-thick, and she jumped. Of course, it was another lie of the Mist. She drew the masamune just in time. With a roar that pounded at her bones, a tyranorox charged forward on legs as tall as she was, teeth gnashing in a mouth big enough to swallow her whole. Her sword whipped past the great head's thrust and dove into the soft spot beneath its jaw. Black Mist, liquid as blood, blew out in a torrent. The yarhi crashed to the floor.

Vaan was battling a darkmare. He gasped as one of its tentacles made contact, snapping with electricity, but felled the beast with his very next attack. Daina tossed him a potion, and he stuck the open end in his mouth the same time he struck at a pit fiend. Emptied, the bottle shattered on the floor when he spat it out, and the pit fiend dissolved a second later.

So it went, killing and re-killing yarhi in the shapes of Ivalice's beasts. An ash wyrm. A bell wyvern. Emeralditan. Scythe mantis. And aegyl, everywhere they turned. Angry, full of hate, screaming obscenities. Not allowed to die, the yarhi were forced to fight again and again, like a music crystal stuck on repeat.

Still the Mist twinkled and flowed as deeper they fought their way into the Keep. The reflections of their friends fought with them, insubstantial, sometimes appearing for a split second, other times freezing and hanging in the air, or else allowed to play out a particular little scene before some real-time yarhi burst through it.

Basch appeared many times, the black of his armor like a spot of emptiness on the bright, colorful Mist. Each time one of their friends swam into view, it was like meeting them anew. Vaan and Daina followed their strange guides to the Throne of Feolthanos.

Daina, struggling with a particularly troublesome topstalk that kept trying to confuse her, did not see the sword descending on her head until it was almost too late. At some change in the Mist, she glanced up; the masamune darted upward; silver blade met and squealed off black.

"Basch," she choked. "It's really you." Tears sprang instantly to her eyes. That sword was no Mist-dream. It had been real.

The judge magister raised his weapon, amber eyes burning as fiercely as a salamand entite. Then he attacked.

"Basch!" Daina cried. She parried his thrust, threw up her guard. "Do you not know me? Or –"

She stopped. A truly horrible thought had occurred to her. What if – just _what if_ – Basch had fallen in this Misty place. What if this man now . . . was no more than a hume yarhi?

* * *

_A/N: __Whee, another update! *smilesmilesmilesmile*_

_Okay, I have to do this. Here is my disclaimer again: I have not played Revenant Wings. I've watched YouTube videos of gameplay, but this does not compare to actual experience. Thusly, I have taken GREAT liberties in the descriptions of this story, but most especially in this chapter. (And in the sahagin last chapter. As far as I know, there are no sahagin in the original FFXII bestiary, so I borrowed them from FXIII. Neener!) I am more than open to critiques on this point from those of you who HAVE played the game. Thanks!_

_The end is in sight. I can see it! I'm so grateful you've stuck with me this long!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Black Claided Cat** (Hooooooraaaaay! Welcome back, my friend! I am so glad to see you! *huggle* I'm so sorry - again - for disappearing. Don't worry - I am fine! Better than fine. The reason I left is because . . . I have a daughter now, and she's my whole world. I love her so much! So, yeah. *bluuusshhh* I'm here until the end!)_

_Until next time, my friends,_

_~ Anne_


	22. Harmony in Discord

"Basch, what are you doing?" Vaan exclaimed. Several other voices expressed dismay and shock as Basch renewed his onslaught.

Daina, recovered, threw his attacks aside. In a corner of her mind, she filed away the information that their friends, some if not all, were still alive. For now, she was too busy with Basch. He was no yarhi, but her husband of flesh and blood. They faced each other in the darkening Mist. "You're angry with me."

"Aye," he answered. "But there is something else."

"What is that?"

"A lesson." He charged, bringing both curved blades to bear.

Daina's greatest strength was her speed, enhanced by her weapons of choice. She slipped out of his reach as easily as the vorpal bunny, leaping over, around, and through each swing of his swords. When he showed signs of retreating to a stronger position, the masamune flicked out, once, twice, three times. Each strike rang off armor, and he pushed her away. She stumbled out of reach.

"You think you have something to teach me? I am not a child!" she snarled.

"You broke the vows you swore to me," he retorted. "You keep secrets from me. You run away rather than face me!"

Using her body weight, she threw her shoulder into his chest, knocking him off balance. He made a grab for the ninja sword, but she swung it at his head, not realizing it had been a feint. His armored leg swept her own out from under her and she landed hard, her breath escaping in a grunt. She rolled away.

"So it's only all right if you're the one doing the leaving?" she gasped when she could breathe. "You didn't even say goodbye!"

"I was respecting your wishes. If you want to go alone, then go."

"You are so pigheaded!" she yelled. She jumped upright, and pointed with the masamune. "Yes, I was wrong! All right? I was wrong, and stupid, and blind. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Your stubbornness surpasses belief. I have never loved it," he remarked.

The iga blade passed within inches of his face, and, in defiance of everything, his odd not-quite-a-smile made an appearance.

"You . . ." Was he laughing? "You think this is funny!"

"Aye," he said again, deadpan.

With a shout, she sent a streak of fire magick at him, and then ran around to press her attack at his side. He responded in kind, aero magick blowing her hair into her eyes as it passed a little too close for comfort. The swords sang out, blow for blow.

Somehow, in the midst of muscle burn and swift breathing, the dance of thrust, parry, block, and counter, Daina realized that she was having fun. Never before had she and Basch tested their skills against each other. It thrilled her to realize that she was a close match for him, and her blades attacked quicker, almost finding a way past his guard.

Almost, but not quite. He pressed her, causing her to lose ground. Something hard slammed into Daina's back, sending a starburst of pain through the back of her skull, and a big, black blade squealed against the masamune right next to her ear. She stood there, panting, a pillar at her back, death an inch from her neck. Her katana held Basch's sword away from her skin, and the opposite was true for him.

A draw. One that brought him very close to her.

His low, rough voice spanned a lifetime of regrets. "When we fail to protect what we must, it is easier to turn away and forget than face our failure. That is the lesson."

She glared at him.

"My lesson," he said, even lower. His amber eyes bored into hers. "Lady, whether you like it or not, I will still give chase."

Every beloved feature, from the closely cropped hair to the ugly scar, his aquiline nose and sensuous mouth – so stubborn! He dared lay that charge to her! – blurred through her tears. Once they started, she couldn't stop them. Instead, she threw herself at him, wrapping her free arm around his neck, the iga blade clutched in a white-knuckled fist.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, over and over. "I'm so sorry!"

He was holding her, their swords making an awkward, barbed cage around them.

"As am I," he said in her ear, and she gave a watery laugh.

"Fools, you and I," she whispered. "For once, let me be responsible for my own actions. Let me be sorry. Let me try to make it right. Please." She looked up at him, waiting.

"If you wish," he said. And then he kissed her. Daina nearly combusted in his arms, her emotions running so high she thought she might fly apart at the seams.

She never knew how long they might have stayed like that, because Vaan gave an embarrassed cough. Someone else giggled, bringing her back to reality.

Cheeks reddening, she started to pull away, but Basch made a sound of complaint low in his throat, refusing to let her go. The fact that Basch had never shown physical affection in public – once or twice, maybe, he had held her hand – made her eager to soak up as much of this passion as she could. Happily did she stay where she was, enjoying the fire of his lips on hers.

"Uh, guys?" Vaan pleaded. "We don't have time for that."

"That's right." Balthier put an arm around each of their shoulders, hooked ringed fingers around Daina's arm, and lifted her away. The look Basch gave him could have curdled milk, but Balthier only smirked. "Now then, about my treasure. You _did_ bring it back, correct?"

He held out his hand expectantly. Dazed, Daina merely stared at him.

"Newlyweds," he groaned, throwing up his hands as he swaggered off. "Can't take them anywhere. Maybe you should give it a try, Your Majesty."

A little flustered, Ashe brushed her bangs to the side, her gray eyes lighter than usual in the Mist. "Daina. Vaan. Welcome back."

"Thanks," Vaan said, all business. He smiled down at Penelo, who was holding one of his hands in both of hers. "I'm glad everyone's all right."

"Well, not everyone," Kytes said. The small boy's brown eyes were troubled, and Filo, usually so strident, was quietly crying into his robe.

That was when Daina saw Llyud. The redheaded aegyl stood impassively, his eyes blank and focused on nothing in particular. In spite of what had just transpired, he had not reacted. Not in disgust, embarrassment, discomfort, or amusement – nothing. He looked like a mannequin.

"What _happened_?" she breathed.

Basch sheathed his swords, holding her to his side. "He opened his heart and soul to the Eternal, only to be deceived and made hollow. Llyud was trying to reach him – at peril of his own anima."

"A high price to pay," Fran pronounced.

"No good deed goes unpunished," Basch said roughly. "Surely the irony is not lost on you."

Fran eyed him, lips pursed. Then, she nodded her silver head. She began the long walk down the hall, heading for the throne at the far end of it, her stilettos sounding like struck iron on the floor. "There is only one way to restore Llyud's anima."

"Then we have to take that chance," Vaan snarled, leading Penelo after her.

"Wouldn't do to keep a god waiting," Balthier said disdainfully. He finished reloading his fomalhaut and cocked his head at the children. They, too, followed Fran.

"In this throne he sat as he stole aegyl anima for all these years," Ashe said, her tone that of disgust. "What man could do this?"

The queen beckoned to her former knights, and they three made up the rear of their party. The throne room began to resemble a cave more than a manmade structure. It glittered in vibrant blues, greens, and pinks. Complicated patterns writhed along the sumptuous carpeting. Giant crystals glowered at them from all sides, the throne itself a monstrosity of spiked diamond. Three enormous auracite crystals encased the figure of a single aegyl above it, larger than life. Daina wondered if its size was an optical illusion.

Briefly, Basch brought Daina's knuckles to his lips, and then released her hand so that they might do their duty here. "We bring him the end all false gods must meet."

"There's no other way, is there?" Penelo asked sadly. She gazed up at the image of Feolthanos, her pretty face pensive.

"No," Daina said, but her voice was strong and confident. As long as they were together, everything was going to be all right.

Llyud glided past her. "The last auralith," he said in monotone.

"_That_?" Askance, Vaan pointed at the three great crystals, the frozen man in their center.

Llyud's wings lifted in something very like an indifferent shrug. "So long did he prey on our anima that he became a crystal himself."

* * *

_**A/N:** Hehehe, I'm an updating fool! Or maybe just a fool . . . that's entirely possible, too. XD __To those of you who may be new to my fics, I have to apologize. I try to write and upload one chapter a day through the week, so what gets put up here tends to be the roughest of the rough drafts._

_Going forward (at least through these final dungeons) I'm going to try to focus more on the actual plot and script of RW, setting D&B aside for a while. I mean, they ARE all out to save the world. Again. The least I can do is give it proper attention, lol._

_I've been checking out FFXII stories that have been posted or updated recently, since I've been gone for so long. There are some very talented people out there! So to all you writers: YOU GO!_

_Until next time, Dear Readers,_

_Sending all my appreciation,_

_Anne_


	23. Creator of Darkness

Leave it to Balthier to lighten the mood with one of his quips. With a practiced flick of his fingers, he straightened his shirt cuff and said, "How unbecoming."

Ashe put up a hand to cover her chuckle, but, as if sensing their proximity, the huge crystals flared, bright as the Sun-Cryst. Balthier hugged Ashe to one side and a suddenly wailing Fran to the other and ducked. Vaan and Penelo shielded the children; Filo had her eyes squinched shut and her hands pressed to her ears.

"It comes!" Ashe warned.

One, two . . . eight espers in all, bursting from the last auralith with howls of glee. None she recognized. The first, thin as a whip, threw back his fearsome head and roared with the subterranean rumble of thunder. He floated on dark winds, wings of wrought iron sparking, clawed hands forming a judgment bolt of lightning that he then pitched at her.

She jumped out of the way, nearly bouncing into the green blob that was another esper. This one ghoulishly giggled at her, wide mouth and glistening with rotten teeth, its eyes seemingly burned into black pits. He danced grotesquely around her friends, a blight spreading beneath his bloated, peg-like legs. Penelo, seeing Daina about to submit to a withering plague, raised her euclid's sextant and began to shout spells to cleanse and protect.

A third esper, tasting the magicks, homed in on the smaller girl. Riding a winged, floating platform, he turned his horned helm toward her and uncrossed his muscular arms. He didn't need to speak to whip up a massive tornado, which ripped into the ground, flinging her into the air.

Vaan tried to help her, but a frightening apparition, all armored bones and stinking black feathers, holding a blindfolded and bound shamaness hostage on his right arm, pointed a skeletal hand at him. His condemnation stopped Vaan in his tracks. Balthier was faring no better, firing repeatedly at a great, clawed creature, bulbous and pulsating. His wyrmfire shot was arrested in the air, useless. Beneath the sky pirate, a well of gravity bloomed. It spun, faster and faster, until it exploded with a big bang. Nowhere did Daina see Ashe, Fran, Llyud, or the children.

When faced with such odds, it was best to tackle one problem at a time, else be smothered by the whole. Daina focused her attention on the first esper, the one who was still tossing flash arcs all over the place. He was beautiful in a terrible way, his green armor emblazoned with bright red designs, sort of a cross between a hume and a wyrm. "You're mine!" she shouted at him, dodging yet another blinding rope of white-hot lightning. He gestured at her: _Come on, then_.

The way to triumph over espers was already known to her, she who had dominated The Whisperer a year ago. All she needed was to listen, wear the creature down until she could hear its name held close in what passed for its heart. Using the dark magicite-infused iga blade as a crude lightning rod, she hacked and slashed at the flying creature, keeping it too busy to bother anyone else. Somewhere, Penelo must have been all right – or maybe it was Fran, berserking on the boiling Mist – or possibly even Kytes, the small boy a scholar in the ways of magick – but repeated renew spells kept her on her feet. She sent silent thanks to the unknown mage and kept trying to draw the esper close enough to – there!

As it neared her, metallic smoke pouring from its snout, she drove the masamune as hard as she could into its chest plate. The katana, longer by half than most, pierced the elegant armor, entered the esper, and exited his back, right between the wings.

He keened in her face, the fading lightning on his breath stinging her eyes and her nose.

Dimly, she heard Basch give a hoarse yell; he had defeated his esper first. "The Judge-Sal, Exodus!"

In the maelstrom, it was impossible to see the flash and formation of a summoning crystal. But then The Wroth yielded to her when she shouted, "Adrammelech!" He bowed his ugly, beautiful head, curled upon himself, and turned to crystal.

"Zalera!" yelled Vaan. The hapless shamaness sobbed and cried out laments in a language unknown when The Death Seraph pulled her into his crystal with him. Vaan stared for a long time into the crystal's Misty depths, his face twisted in regret.

"Cúchulainn!" screamed Penelo. He was her first esper, the one known as The Impure. Her blonde hair had come loose from its braids, but she seemed otherwise fine.

Balthier, his shirt sleeve torn, finished a quickening with Fran that smashed The Condemner into his crystal like pounding herbs to powder in a mortar. "Zeromus," he announced smugly. Then, when he held the glowing crystal in his palm, he cocked his head. "Quite a show you put on."

"A fitting welcome," Fran gasped, and he went to her and steadied her.

"Ultima," Ashe said imperiously, the stylized sun-hilt and curvy blade of her golden greatsword unwavering. Some of the whirling Mist had cooled once they began putting the espers back to sleep, and she did not need to shout. The High Seraph, her skin the color of blue steel, picked up her white and gold skirts and bowed to the queen, her four wings radiant in orange and yellow. Never once did she open her eyes or her lips, and she went quietly into crystal.

"Chaos," Llyud said as if surprised, but he clearly couldn't feel that anymore. Only hate and anger, the two emotions necessary for battle, remained to him since Feolthanos had re-taken his anima. Flying to meet the floating esper, which was still determinedly commanding four or five tornadoes, he stabbed his halberd into it where its torso met the floating platform. Then, using the halberd as a lever, he pried the two apart. The platform slammed into the ground while the helpless esper struggled on the tip of the halberd. "Walker of the Wheel," Llyud said to it calmly. The light of the forming crystal lit up his expressionless face. "A scion shunned by the Eternal. It is perhaps right that you should be mine."

Meanwhile, Daina and Basch were running toward Filo and Kytes, who were both still battling the final esper. Before they reached them, however, Filo embedded her skybandit into the esper's wriggling, fish-like body, and Kytes engulfed it in a scathing spell.

"Keeper of Precepts!" Kytes yelled, his magus staff high.

"Zodiark!" Filo added triumphantly from flat on the floor, where she'd fallen when the esper shook her off the hovering board.

The backlash of Mist from the final summon stone was nearly deafening. Then, it all stopped.

"So . . ." Penelo ventured after a moment, in which the only thing to be heard was the soft fall of crystal dust onto the stone floor, "is that it?"

"Is everybody okay?" Vaan wanted to know.

Basch cast a heated look at Daina, and she nodded.

"Majesty?" he then asked.

"I am fine, thank you." Ashe smiled.

Fran did not speak, but she approached the last auralith and the image of Feolthanos within. She stopped in front of it, head high, hand on her hip. Faint streaks of sweat on the side of her face were the only hint of the agony she'd suffered from the Mist. Balthier joined her, rearranging his honeyed hair in the auralith's reflective facets.

Then, Feolthanos spoke from within his prison.

"What you have seen is no work of mine," he said, as if he'd said or thought it a thousand-thousand times before. "Our imprisonment in the skies, the curse of my immortal corpse – your gods of Ivalice did this. I claimed the anima of my people to seek revenge against these gods. Who are you to judge what I have done?"

Vaan ran up next to Fran, his face flushed with anger. "We fought free of the same gods. But we did it ourselves!"

"No peace is worth the price your people were made to pay," Ashe said heavily. "Don't you see that you've only destroyed that which you sought to protect?"

"If our anima drives us to war, we must seek to master our anima," Basch said.

Vaan pointed at Feolthanos, his whole body quivering with rage. "This world is what you made of it. Out of all the things you could have done, you let it come to this."

But Daina could tell it wasn't working. By the sneer on Balthier's face, he knew, too. Just like Dr. Cid, Feolthanos was too far gone to listen to reason.

"You are grown too proud," he droned. "You are unworthy of the anima you possess."

"Not even Mydia, born of your own blood, believed this," Fran said stonily. Daina suspected that Fran had felt a closer bond to Mydia, another outcast viera, than they had given her credit for.

"She came all this way to be with her father – to save you!" Penelo cried, stamping her foot. "Are you still too blind to see what she was trying to do?"

There was a pause in Feolthanos's thought-voice. At last, he said, "Mydia? The girl?"

Although he never moved, the auralith glowed with Mist, and Mydia appeared as if summoned, the Mydia of the past. She wore shell-pink armor and creamy lace, a vision of springtime with her yellow hair and healthful, tanned skin. Then a bolt of lightning struck her where she hung in the air, and the cold, black, wintry Judge of Wings faced them.

"When are you going to learn that people's anima is more than toys for you to play with?" Vaan shouted, beside himself.

"Anima are fleeting things. Living, dead, it matters not," Feolthanos said dismissively. "Easily taken, easily restored."

As if to prove his point, the yarhi-Mydia summoned more Mist-beasts to her side. And then more. And more. An army. A hundred legions.

"Vaan –" Daina started, hoping to caution him, but he was beyond hearing her, too.

"I've had enough of this!" he bellowed.

There were so many of her friends, ready to fight and die for what they believed in. But there were so many more yarhi, Mydia not the least among them. After the battle to suppress the espers, supplies were probably running low. Daina herself still had a full pouch, but she didn't know about the others. Plus, the espers were drained, unable to join them in a fight unless they could somehow replenish the Mist in their crystals.

It was unthinkable, but looking at the black wave of yarhi cresting so far above them, ready to break on the shore with killing force, she wondered if they would all make it out alive.

* * *

_**A/N:** Okay, so I'm a liar. I didn't lie on purpose, I swear! I realize this chapter does not exactly follow the game, but it's because so often I read about summoned espers in the script that I thought this would be the perfect place to showcase those I wasn't able to in ASftP. I LOVE the espers - so pretty!_

_I decided to cut the chapter a bit short because 1. It's late and 2. I kept thinking "Another battle, blah blah." I couldn't exactly type THAT. Action really isn't my strong suit, I'm afraid. I'm trying very hard to make things interesting and new each time, but I suspect I'm really just cutting corners. *embarrassed face* I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!_

_All righty, that's enough jabbering for today. No reviewers to thank, sad sad, but to those of you who have favorited either my story or me - THANK YOU! It's so flattering to see those alerts pop up in my box!_

_An Anne who continues to be humbled by your patronage. (Is it still patronage if you aren't paying? lol) Until Monday, adieu._


	24. The Dead Ought Sleep Forever

Catching the yarhi-Mydia was like sticking an arm into the triple jaws of a wooly gator to pluck an antarctic wind from its toothy throat with her bare fingers. Ever elusive, Daina could not reach her, zooming around the throne room like some tiny black airship, imperiously and unemotionally commanding her beast-yarhi to separate, overwhelm, and eventually kill her friends. For each step she strained forward, the ocean of yarhi pushed her back three. It heaved and battered, its surface furred, feathered, and scaled. Mydia's strategy was one of the most ancient: Divide and conquer.

Daina was swimming elbow-deep in a swarm of psychedelic pandoras when Basch bulldozed his way to her side. The squeal of insect bodies against armor was enough to set her teeth on edge. Stabbing at the pandora that had locked its chelicerae in the folds of his cloak, he put his knee behind hers and linked their inside arms. Thus braced, they were able to hold their ground.

"We can't keep doing this forever," Daina managed, wincing as yet another pandora tried to eat her from the boots up. She hacked off its head.

"Her Majesty," he said shortly.

Daina looked up. Dalmasca's queen, her slender form like a gold-white flame, struggled amidst a cloud of white seekers. Daina then returned her attention to the yarhi clawing for her face. Masamune hilt in her fist, she punched one in its charged gizzard and it fell, screeching. "What can we do?"

"I've an idea. Stay with me."

She realized what he was about to do a second before he did it. The Mist was plentiful here, with Mydia opening so many summoning gates to call the yarhi from their undead dreaming.

Daina ducked into his side the moment he released a flame purge, wielding two swords of fire. The force of the quickening blew her hair and her coat straight back. Then, buoyed by the flames, they began to carve a path through the clicking, many-legged mass.

"Majesty!" Basch called hoarsely, his face shining with sweat as he fought to keep the Mist from dissipating.

Ashe looked over, saw his plan. "I cannot!" she cried. The tournesol whipped through the air, clipping the seekers of their striped wings, but there were always more, dive-bombing her with their needle-sharp teeth. Her cheeks and forehead were bleeding, her arms scored in tens of places.

Daina crouched, clearing a space with a double sweep of her blades. She really must learn some higher magick, she chided herself, and then she leaped. Arms and legs tucked tight to her body, she soared over the remaining pandoras and came whirling down through the cloud of seekers. Fifty, sixty of them puffed out of existence and she landed, catlike, in front of the queen, who was suddenly standing in a pocket free of yarhi. "At your service, My Lady," she said, grinning.

Ashe burst out laughing, a rare sight indeed, although Daina suspected it was more of a battle reaction than true humor. Eyes shining like northswain's glow, Ashe pulled Basch's quickening toward herself and then used it to command the stars themselves. By the hundreds, yarhi began to pop like oversized corn kernels, light streaming from their eyes, mouths, and ears – or whatever passed for such things in their various species. Together, the queen and the judge tossed the Mist back and forth as if playing a deadly game of keep away.

"Who's next?" Daina had to shout to be heard above the destruction.

"Penelo – there!" Shirttails and flaxen hair flying on the Mist, Ashe pointed a glowing hand to her right.

"I see her." Daina waited, counting under her breath. Basch had the quickening, throwing the flaming swords like boomerangs, and then Ashe again, her red boots not touching the floor. Basch. Ashe. Now, _go_! The moment she saw an opening in the hungry Mist, she dashed through. Penelo had fallen under a flock of red chocobos. The birds, normally so friendly, were stamping and scratching, trying to trample her. Taking a deep breath, Daina charged. Chocobos were a lot bigger and more substantial than seekers or pandoras, could strike a lot faster with their hooked beaks. She aimed for the legs instead.

"Give me your hand!" she cried down at Penelo. The dancer heard, looked up, and grasped Daina's outstretched wrist. The two girls spun in place, knocking chocobos aside. Feeling the strain in her arm, shoulder, and back, a good strain, full of strength and possibility, Daina suddenly changed her angle, and she sent the smaller girl sailing overhead.

Light as a demon's sigh, Penelo turned over in the air and landed, feet together, knees bent, arms aloft, on the back of a rampaging chocobo. The bird bucked, frantically trying to dislodge her, but Penelo had already gotten hold of the quickening. Her balancing act was truly spectacular to watch. It was as if her sandals had become one with the chocobo's red feathers. In an evanescent dance of death, sickles of concentrated air spun out from her. When the chocobo beneath her vanished, she pirouetted, creating more air sickles.

Balthier added an element of treachery. Without any assistance, he snagged the next pass of Mist and called down a giant meteor that shook the Keep to its illusory foundation.

And so it went, bouncing from one mage to the next until it finally bloomed out of all control. Daina rode the crest of the inferno, coming down hard on her backside, the floor striking her spine a blow that made her squeak.

"We got her!" Vaan crowed, and then he was there, helping Daina to her feet. She quickly downed a potion and then made a face, her hand to her complaining stomach.

"You are too hasty," Fran said to Vaan, nocking an artemis arrow.

It was true. Heart sinking, Daina saw that the quickening had not defeated Mydia, although it had brought her to the ground. Not wasting what advantage remained to them, Fran released her arrow. The earth-element tip sent shockwaves through Mydia's body.

They were gathering, all of Daina's friends. Basch stood tall at her side. Mydia had not succeeded in dividing them. Still, she struck back with fearsome magicks.

Scathe fanned across them, bringing screams of pain. Kytes and Penelo worked feverishly to keep spells of healing flowing over the wounded. Grimly, feeling as if Mydia would sear the meat from her bones, Daina fought through the magick, both white and black, and engaged the Judge with her sword. Determined to end it, Vaan hemmed Mydia in from one side, Ashe from another. However, Daina noted with despair, they could not touch her. If one got too close, Mydia simply battered him or her with more scathe spells until he or she lay moaning upon the crystal dust that littered the floor. They were going to lose.

More summoning gates burst open like blue-black boils, spewing forth more yarhi. Fran and Balthier were rapidly running out of ammunition and began striking out with bow and gun. Daina knew that had their enemies been flesh, the wicked spikes of the sagittarius and heavy butt of the fomalhaut would be weeping scarlet. Llyud was fighting not to be carried off by a fresh wave of beasts, but his halberd was nowhere to be seen and his wings were torn and shedding shining quills. Above him, Kytes and Filo huddled together on Filo's laboring skybandit, whimpering in fright. A murder of flying yarhi engulfed them.

Daina dodged scathe, and dodged again. The masamune was less than useless if she could not reach her enemy! She made an angry sound that wasn't even close to words, her voice rising in frustration until it burned her throat. At the next blast of magick, she turned the power of it aside with the iga blade, which hummed and vibrated in her hand so hard that it broke cleanly off from the hilt, turning end over end, blazing like a bolt of plasma. She tossed away the hilt. Began swinging the masamune with both hands. And still, she could not reach Mydia.

But Basch did. The two black-armored figures battled across the sparkling floor, swords flashing and ringing off each other. He succeeded in relieving her of one of her blades, but in so doing, left himself open for one heartbeat. Her second blade drove deep into his middle, shattering armor, piercing and tearing through the delicate symphony of a hume body beneath.

Basch drew a ragged breath, nothing but gentle surprise in his amber eyes. "It cannot end thus," he whispered, and slid slowly to his knees.

* * *

_**A/N:** Posting a little early today to make up for missing yesterday. Sorry, sorry! But anyway, I'm kind of excited about this chapter. I couldn't figure out how I wanted this scene to go (I mean, I'd already used my espers - it's cheap to just trot them out again) and then I remembered: Quickenings! Hehehe. (Or was that cheap, too?)_

_Know what occurred to me? I don't recall seeing any bangaa (besides Ba'Gamnan) in the script for RW. The only ones in my story are in the beginning where I made some up. Weird._

_We are so close to the end, folks! Two, three more chapters? Something like that._

_Please review, okay? I think I was spoiled during ASftP. Seeing reviews really . . . makes me feel good. *shy smile*_

_I hope you're all having a wonderful week._

_Most humbly yours,_

_Anne_


	25. Where the Heart Lies

Viscous, congealed red slapped over Daina's vision like a visor made of bloody gel. For a while, she knew nothing but the shifting shades of black and red. Hatred. Anger. The pure, simple need to kill.

She came to with sweat dripping off her chin, gripping her masamune so hard her fingers felt like slabs of ice. Mydia was gone. Panting, muscles a-quiver and going numb, Daina stared hard at the sparkly floor between her feet, wondering if she had been the one to strike her down.

Then she remembered. Mydia's last attack had been lethal, hurting Basch badly enough that he should have died. Maybe he had.

Like a bad dream, the Mist grabbed at her memories and spun them out for all to see. Noah dying right before their eyes. Dead, with no way to call him back. With a cry, she whirled around, desperate to lay eyes on Basch, more than half afraid he would have vanished, too.

Gone, as if swallowed by some oubliette that this time, she wouldn't be able to enter.

"He's here," Ashe said.

Daina staggered toward the knot of people and the glowing blue light in their center. Fear wrapped barbed wire around her insides. "Is he –?"

"No," Vaan said quickly, but then he ran his hands through his tangled hair. "Not yet."

"Not –" She started gasping again and couldn't finish the sentence. Nor could she go to her husband. The blue light, she saw, were healing sigils drawn by Fran, Penelo, and Kytes. It was taking all three of them to create the cocoon of magick around Basch, and that, she knew, was all that was keeping him alive.

They stood that way for a long time, silent, vigilant. Kytes dropped out first, having used up his reserves. Penelo held on for much longer, but even she had to stop eventually, explaining that she couldn't command the Mist anymore. That left Fran. Daina hugged herself, waiting, hoping. She couldn't look at the hole in his middle, couldn't bring herself to see if it was knitting together or not, and so stared at his face. Waiting for the first flicker of returning life. Hoping that he wasn't going to slip away.

The shadows on his face lay deep, the Mist turning his golden warmth an unhealthy gray.

His eyes opened.

He was all right! Daina's heart swelled, but the time for crying was past. She breathed deep, not caring that the Mist-tainted air tasted strange. It felt so good just to feel the flex of muscle, rib, and lung, to move the air through her nose and esophagus. As her friends made way for her, she knelt and placed her palm on Basch's chest. The metal of his armor was warm.

"Welcome back," she said softly. Just as she would have had he returned home to her in Archades.

"Lady," he responded roughly, taking her hand. She helped him stand, while Balthier and Ashe supported Fran. "My friends, I thank you."

Then he turned to Vaan. "It's time."

"Right." Vaan seemed to make up his mind. To everyone's astonishment, he went to Ashe. Head bowed, he clenched and unclenched his fists. And then he sank to one knee in front of his queen.

"Ashe – Your Majesty," he said awkwardly. A faint blush worked its way up his forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you. I swear it."

"What's gotten into you?" Ashe asked, bewildered. She and Daina glanced at each other, and Daina had to turn her eyes down or else she might laugh.

Basch, who still had his swords, had been going through the seven forms of swordsmanship to ensure that he was, in fact, whole. Now, he took a stance next to Vaan, holding one sword like a guillotine blade. In a flawless deadpan, he said, "I fear we may have an impostor in our midst, Majesty."

"Was that a joke, Basch?" Ashe began to giggle. She tried to cover it with her hands. "I fear we may have two impostors."

Her laughter was infectious. Even Basch smiled, and Balthier muffled his chuckle behind his hand. Llyud's expression suggested they were boring him, which made Daina laugh harder. He was just going to have to deal with their emotions for now, whether he understood them or not.

Vaan got up, grinning. "Everybody laughing, smiling," he said, almost to himself, and then punched the air with a whoop. "It's like old times again."

"What a charming thought," Ashe said breathily. She tilted her head back, looking at the pretty, twinkling Mist. Or perhaps through it, to a future none of them could yet see.

Vaan noticed Llyud, standing a little apart. The aegyl had recovered his halberd but held it loosely in his hand. A puppet waiting for direction. Vaan went to him. "Llyud, you'll be laughing with us soon enough. I promise."

Llyud's profile was calm, but one eye slid around to look down at Vaan, and he tightened his grip on the halberd's shaft. "I will fight this battle as I have never fought before."

"Good enough for me." Energized, Vaan took two quick steps toward the last auralith. He turned on his heel, sweeping his gaze across them: Fran and Balthier, coolly waiting; Penelo, smiling just for him; Kytes and Filo, encouraging Llyud; Basch and Daina, their fingers linked. "We made it this far together," he announced. "We can make it a little farther."

"That's right," agreed Penelo, who raised her own small fist into the air.

Six fists copied her, and then everyone moved to follow, their voices a soft babble in the echoing throne room.

"Shall we go?" Basch asked. Briefly, he faced her and rested his forehead against hers.

"Yes," Daina murmured. "One final battle. Then peace shall be ours."

"Aye."

* * *

The last auralith turned out to be an illusion, as well. They fought, and fought hard, to reach it, blasting aside the thousands of yarhi that spewed from the summoning gates. One at a time, they smashed through the portals, destroying the auracite that had spawned them, and then set their sights on the giant crystals surrounding the image of Feolthanos.

But then that, too, shattered.

Daina could hear him in the Mist, taste the thing that Feolthanos had become. All feeling burned to cinder in flames of hatred, and the Eternal spread his profane wings, becoming a great and terrible yarhi.

"This is the final act," Daina said to Ashe, who was near her.

"What?" Ashe spared her a quick glance, and then gasped as the Eternal rose on wings of blackest night.

"The curtain's rising," Daina said. She couldn't explain why she was thinking of it in a metaphor like that, but it seemed fitting. "This is the final act of his despotic reign."

"Right," Balthier agreed. "Let's be to it, then. Our audience awaits."

When they approached their massive foe, however, a wellspring opened up beneath them. Aegyl voices rose in a discordant wail of oaths, shrieking, piercing, streaming upward on blackened Mist. There was no time to turn back, nothing to grab onto as the floor dissolved under their boots. Daina fell, tumbling and knocking into the others, her hands grasping for something solid.

Then she hit another floor hard enough to bounce. She lay there, stunned. Several other people were cursing through the buzzing in her ears.

"It's not the fall I mind," she snarled after a minute or two gathering her battered, sore wits, and got to her hands and knees. She'd had enough of being dumped down a damned hole. "It's the abyssal _stop_ at the end!"

"You okay?" Penelo asked her.

"No, I'm mad!" Daina shouted. She closed her eyes, counted to ten. "I'm fine. Sorry. What about everyone else?"

"We're here," Filo called.

Daina did a quick headcount and came up with eight. She made the ninth. That was correct, at least. She took in their surroundings, a crystal prison of the brightest, most distant blue. "Where are we now?"

"The Womb of Feolthanos," Llyud told her. "Get ready."

Vaan had already recovered from being tossed down a foul-mouthed well and found the Eternal, the grotesque parody of an aegyl floating before three massive summoning gates, and pointed his durandal straight at his heart. "Don't you get it?" he raged. "We're not gonna stop until Llyud – until all the aegyl – are free!"

The Eternal said nothing, but collected the anima of his people and activated the summoning gates. They'd all been expecting this and were ready to fend off the wing wraiths as they swarmed from the Eternal's mouth like vomit.

"Vaan, we'll go left!" Daina called, indicating herself, Ashe, Kytes, and Basch.

"Got it! I'm going right!" he yelled back. He, Penelo, and Filo dashed off.

"We've got center!" Balthier announced. Fran and Llyud made no response, but were tackling the wing wraiths with cold efficiency.

No matter how quickly they'd put this strategy together, it was sound. They had one healer per group. A few potions left to them. It was what they had to work with, and no one was backing out. _All right, then_, Daina thought. She readied the masamune.

Going left meant engaging with the Eternal's gargantuan right hand and the staff crackling with electricity he held in it. Daina could feel Adrammelech quivering in her pocket. She closed her fingers around the crystal, tried to hear the tiny voice screaming within. Was the esper . . . still partially bound to Feolthanos? As if to confirm this vague impression, the Eternal lifted the staff and used The Wroth's Judgment Bolt to electrify them. Only it was multiplied by a hundredfold, and there was no escaping it.

It felt like a giant fist, a hammer of adamantine, crushing her skeleton flat. It struck again and again, swift and unstoppable as lightning. Great blocks of crystal and stone shattered under its force, were stripped away to leave smoking craters. Adrammelech keened.

Dazed, Daina tried to blink away the white and black afterimages. Somehow she managed to drink a restorative, was given the heartbeats necessary to heal, and then she stood. The Eternal apparently could not focus on one threat at a time; just then, his attention was elsewhere. On Vaan, perhaps, coordinating an attack with his team on the crystal left hand that was rhythmically pounding the ground like some kind of demented jackhammer. Daina patted Adrammelech once and told him to shut up.

"My turn," she said.

They charged again, battling their way through the wing wraiths and continued blasts of Judgment. Daina darted here and there, refusing to be drawn in by the smaller yarhi, and then, on inspiration, jumped for the Eternal's right hand as it swooped toward her. Scrabbling with hands and feet and chin, she managed to gain purchase in the crook between thumb and first finger. When he lifted his hand in surprise, she slashed with all of her might through skin thick as a thalassinon shell and tendon wide as a Salikawood tree. Finally, she cut enough connecting ligaments that his fingers abruptly went limp. The staff fell, and its crystal top smashed.

One of the summoning gates behind him slammed shut to the howls of the wraiths still trapped within.

The Eternal did not sit still for this. He jerked in pain, and Daina slipped right off his hand. It was a long way down. A cry built up in her throat, but before it could fly away, she came up short, her fall arrested.

"Nicely done, Lady," Basch said to her. He landed with a loud clank of armor, cradling her in his arms to cushion her fall.

"My thanks." She grinned, and gave him a quick peck on the lips before he put her down.

Ashe gingerly patted at a cut on her cheek and pointed. "The end is near."

The Eternal's left hand was glowing, and within the glow, cracks were appearing. Vaan, who had somehow or other gotten Llyud's halberd, threw it like a javelin. The blade bit into one of the larger cracks and, with a sound like all of the glass and bells in the world being struck and broken at once, the crystal hand shattered.

A second summoning gate slammed shut.

Fran, however, suddenly stood upright and shook her head, her ears stiff. Her eyes were fixed on Feolthanos much the same way a rabbit stares at a hunter. "It comes."

"What's that you say?" Out of breath, Balthier frowned at his partner, and then dented the skull of a shrieking wraith with the fomalhaut. The wraith vanished.

Fran pointed a long, clawed finger. "Bahamut!" she cried, her eyes showing white around the edges. "Lord of the Sky and Destroyer of the Skysea!"

Out of the Eternal's black hole of a mouth, a scion of silver streamed out like a megaflare.

Fran's words confused Daina – _Bahamut_ was an airship, one they had destroyed long ago, was it not? Then what was this creature that faced them now, flying on seven wings, its breath that of a vengeful supernova?

* * *

_**A/N:** Greetings, Dear Readers. I've been having a bit of a rough week, but I do hope you're still enjoying my little tale._

_Of note, I've been cutting short these final battles simply because there are so many. Boom - boom - boom, without a break, you know? I've also been taking my usual liberties. I just liked the idea of Feolthanos vomiting yarhi. In my head, there were all these great sound effects to go with it, heh._

_It should be - I hope - one more chapter, maybe a wrap-up chapter, and then the end chapter. Not much longer now! It'll be hard to say goodbye for the last time . . . _

_But I'm getting ahead of myself. Please review, okay? I could use a little good cheer after the last few days._

_Yours Always,_

_Anne_


	26. The Cry of Its Power

It was a dragon, huge and hungry. Between it and the assault of the Eternal, time became hazy, a never ending stretch of pain and strife. In spite of herself, Daina sagged to one knee, using her katana as a sort of crutch.

She was tired. Sweat stung her eyes, and she could taste bile in her throat. Panting, she watched Bahamut wheel in the sky, coming around for another assault. It was _powerful_. Everyone was looking worse for wear. Bahamut roared, and she trembled in exhaustion. If only the Eternal would stop _laughing_. . . .

"Lady." Basch's hair was standing up in stiff little spikes of wheat, his face dirty and worn. He knelt before her and put a gloved hand to her cheek. She ducked her head so that her own hair would cover her expression. How had he found her sheltering there behind a chunk of fallen crystal in all the confusion of battle?

Shame spread through her. "I can't do it," she gasped. "I'm so _tired_, Basch. I can't explain it. I feel fine. Truly. But my stamina – I can't do this any longer."

More shrieks and explosions sent a shudder through the Keep. Daina wanted to cry. She should be _out_ there. She hadn't come this far to wimp out now!

"You are not weak," he said, eyes smoldering. "You have done more than enough."

"Don't say that. You make it sound like you've been humoring me," she grumbled, but he chuckled. Totally ignoring the continued booms, bangs, and shouts, he kissed her with a fire that sent her heart rate skyrocketing.

"The most important thing you can do," he said against her lips, "is protect the life inside of you, of which you have sole ownership. I don't like being useless. Let me do my part in protecting you."

She started to protest, but he smothered it with another kiss and said, "Quiet. Don't spoil my fun."

A guilt trip from Basch? That was a new one. Apparently, he was pulling out all the stops, wooing her all over again. Her fingers crept up, found his beard, touched his lower lip. "Just this once," she surrendered with a gasp. "I . . . need to catch my breath."

Another chuckle, and he brought a lock of her lily-blonde hair to his lips and kissed that instead.

Bahamut chose right then to roar. As if seeking them out, it swept the floor with a blazing beam, which destroyed the chunk of crystal and sent both Daina and Basch skidding across the floor. He brought them up short, Daina crushed to his armored chest. Seemingly out of nowhere, Vaan sprinted right past them, waving both arms over his head. Llyud swooped down, caught up to Vaan, and locked pale fingers on his wrists from behind. The two soared upward to meet Bahamut's rush. Bahamut spat a ball of blue fire, which caught Llyud in the back. The aegyl cried out and lost altitude, but not before throwing Vaan like a missile from a ballista.

Vaan never flinched. His durandal cleaved Bahamut's breastbone, and the dragon's downward flight did the rest, the sword opening its belly from ribs to tailbone as cleanly as a butcher's knife. Belching more blue flames, it fell in a pathetically flapping mess and splattered upon the floor. Vaan landed a hundred feet away. When he stood, he was shaking.

Cheers erupted from the watching humes. With nothing between them and the Eternal, Ashe led the final charge.

Daina laughed. "That was exciting. Help me up, I've rested enough."

Her laughter soon died, however, for the Mist drained of color in an all-too-familiar way. The Eternal, unable to fend off the magicks and weapons of her friends, was writhing in agony. The third summoning gate closed, and the swarming wring wraiths vanished.

All sound ceased with a click.

Daina held her breath, waiting, and then –

"Then you leave it as a gift for them?" Feolthanos's long-dead steward asked again. His voice rippled, first quiet, then a shout.

"Not exactly," Feolthanos said, his hand covering the Cache of Glabados. "This anima is the key that will give my family wings. One day, they will spread those wings, and find their way home to me."

Frowning, his steward said nothing.

"A vain hope, perhaps," Feolthanos admitted. His wings rustled. "But a hope nevertheless."

He turned to leave, sandaled feet scraping upon the cave floor. "Someday they will come. Until then, I must wait. Even if I must wait for all eternity."

His voice faded, full of static. The vision blinked out like a monitor on the fritz. It looked like snow flurries, flying faster and faster, obscuring Basch and the others. Lifting her hands, Daina tried to catch him, but her fingers closed on nothing. The static sound grew louder, from a soft hiss to a mechanical whine that was more pain than sound. She feared she was going to burst like an overripe melon. Pressing her hands to her ears, she started to scream.

* * *

She was falling.

Once, she'd known how to fly, but now all she knew was the brush of air as she fell.

Down.

_Where am I_?

Down.

_What happened_?

Down.

_I have to get back_!

Down . . . there was a light.

Daina fell, and the light rose. The higher it got, the brighter it glowed, until she could see something inside of it.

A face out of a nightmare.

Adrammelech roared with the voice of rolling thunder. The esper, red tail whipping in the wind, metal wings clashing, slammed into her. But instead of killing her, healing magick soaked into her. Almost reproachfully, the esper pushed her through a portal in the Mist, and she tumbled out the other side.

* * *

Daina was on her feet in a flash, head spinning. The Mist burned; it was boiling in her veins.

It was hers to use. At last, it seemed, she had learned how to properly cast magick. She raised her hand.

Vaan was sitting on the ground, half his face covered in blood, while Filo and Kytes tried to defend him against an enraged, hume-sized Feolthanos. The self-styled god of the aegyl was fast, raining black magick over the heads of the children. Daina saw all this in an instant, and she only had an instant in which to act. With Adrammelech's voice in her head, she shaped the language of thundaja. She called up the lightning and flung it at Feolthanos with a deafening sizzle. It seared the air as it passed, making Vaan's hair stand on end, and scorched the aegyl's white, marble-like chest.

From behind Feolthanos, the esper Chaos ripped another hole in the Mist and Llyud emerged, an avenging aegyl. Red hair wild, he bellowed, "You must pay for the years you've made us suffer!"

He flew up, wings straining, and went into a dive. He struck at Feolthanos, but a paling flared around him and repelled Llyud.

"Do you think you could better lead the aegyl?" Feolthanos sneered, watching the younger man spiral away.

Llyud landed next to Daina, his broken necklaces tinkling as they fell. His face was blank. "What?"

"You must give your anima to the heavens." Feolthanos laughed, sounding like a reanimated corpse, and readied a dark spell. "Only then will you fly on wings undying."

"Vaan!" Another portal admitted Ashe onto the scene. Behind her, Ultima opened her eyes a white-hot sliver. At least, that was the impression Daina received before the esper whisked them all away from Feolthanos's spell. They reappeared on the steps of the Keep, amid the sparkling peach clouds and violet light.

"Whoa!" Kytes nearly fell over as Feolthanos teleported in right behind them.

"Some suffering is too great to flee," he droned. Like a siege machine, he glided inexorably closer.

Hashmal's scales tilted, and Basch appeared in front of Feolthanos. The aegyl and the judge magister engaged, and Basch, his voice steely, said, "The bond between friends can overcome any suffering."

The two bounced off each other. Not missing a beat, Feolthanos kept coming, dark energy pouring out of him, battering at the ex-knight. Basch, coughing, gave ground.

"The bond of friendship is but another illusion," Feolthanos preached.

"An illusion that can pierce even suffering," Fran said hotly, her stiletto and long leg appearing first as she stepped out of the rip Zeromus had made for her. Sultry to the very tip of her toes, she shook her shining silver ponytail over her shoulder and flicked her fingers, limned with Mist. Feolthanos shuddered as if struck by a thousand needles, and his dark energy dissipated.

Balthier sauntered around Fran, his fomalhaut cocked and ready. He nodded at Basch, much like a runner in a relay race. Basch returned the nod and retreated to Daina's side. Feolthanos recovered from Fran's dispelga magick just in time to take a shot to the head from Balthier that felled him like a tree in the forest.

"Pleasant lies have a way of helping the best of us through hard times," the sky pirate said smoothly.

To Daina's horror, Feolthanos stood, the Mist sealing the wound, the shot squeezing out of his temple and jingling on the steps. "We each face death alone," he said, smiling gruesomely. "Those you have known and trusted, they cannot help you then."

Penelo popped out of a portal, precipitated by Cúchulainn's creepy, ghoulish giggle. "The people we've known shape who we are," she said earnestly, hands clasped to her chest. "They become a part of us that can never be taken away. Anything that important, even if you lost it, it wouldn't be long before it turned up again."

"It doesn't have to end like this," Vaan said, never despairing. His voice rose, because he was trying so hard to reach Feolthanos with reason. "Your anima can't be lost forever. Look inside yourself, and you'll see. We don't have to kill each other to stop this!"

Feolthanos's mouth tightened. He raised his hands, forming a ball of red light between them. There was murder in his eyes.

Once, Vaan might have hesitated, even then. What he did made Daina's heart ache for him, but she respected him all the more.

He released the Death Seraph. Zalera's black crystal smashed. Wailing like banshees, the esper and its captive shamaness flew like vengeful spirits toward the ancient aegyl, swallowing up the red light. Squinting against the glare, Daina could see Zalera's skull laughing through Feolthanos's face as it absorbed all of the aegyl's stolen time, and then it faded, and Feolthanos crumpled.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, my friends!_

_Posting in the morning today, since I have other plans for this evening. I'm super excited, anyway, because I finished the story this weekend! I did it! I really finished! *does a victory dance*_

_I had to put in a little tribute to FFVII in this chapter, because VII remains my favorite FF and Bahamut my favorite summon. Advent Children, acknowledged! hee._

_I am aware that these chapters (ever since 19: Fallacy - maybe even 18) need a LOT of work. A staggering amount of editing. Fixing. However you label it. I must apologize. I wanted to make this story something good, something to come back to, and not just a rehash of a game I've never played. So, I'm sorry I couldn't give you my absolute best. I did try, though. The edits will have to be a project for another day. If anyone is available to help, I would be forever grateful. Truthfully, I'm not sure WHAT the problem is, only that there IS a problem. Does that make sense?_

_Wait, I think I'm not supposed to admit that, as an author, I may not like something I've written. LOL. So, on the other side of it, there are parts of this story I ADORE. Namely, the first seventeen chapters and the very last one. So, please stay with me until the very end! I am in your care! *bows*_

_Please review! I return all reviews. :3_

_Sincerely,_

_Anne_


	27. Paying for the Past

For the first time in what must have been millennia, Feolthanos looked peaceful. His whole body was glowing from within. Zalera snickered as he returned to his crystal sleep, and this time, the shamaness went quietly to her undeserved prison, tears leaking from beneath her blindfold. Regretfully, Vaan put the crystal away.

Daina had a suspicion that someday, he would find a way to free the shamaness. If anyone could, it was he.

"Llyud," Feolthanos said, his voice ringing like cathedral bells. "You must guide the aegyl. Our dream of the sky must never die."

He held up an auracite crystal, shaped like a blooming pink rose. First his glow transferred to it, and then to Llyud. The redheaded aegyl was lifted into the air for just a moment. When he came back down and the light faded, he cris-crossed his arms over his chest, head bowed.

"You have left the mark of your dream upon us all," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. True emotion. Llyud was finally whole.

"I owe thanks to you as well," Feolthanos commented. Little flurries, like glowing snowflies, lifted from his person. He looked at Vaan. "You helped me reach the end of my journey. You've shown me that there is ever hope in the skies."

Leaving luminescent afterimages, Feolthanos airily stood, spread his wings, and floated up, toward the stars and the everlasting night. They could see through him, like a ghost or a memory, and Penelo fought hard to hold back her tears. Even Balthier looked pained, reminded perhaps of his father. Feolthanos left a trail of fading magick behind him, although he, too, faded long before he should have.

Vaan sighed, shoulders slumped. "That's what I keep tellin' people."

Daina couldn't help it. She laughed. He gave her a sheepish grin.

"It's what I like to think, anyway," he amended, and Basch chuckled.

It wasn't over. Like the swell of the ocean, the steps began to roll. The entire Keep shook and shimmied like a dog shedding water.

"Oh, what now?" Ashe lost her footing and would have fallen, had not Balthier been quick to lend her a hand.

"We fly!" he commanded. He hooked an arm around her slender waist and scooped her to his side, beginning to run.

Daina, who had already fallen once, would have gladly complied, but Penelo, who was in front of her, skidded to a stop.

"What are they doing here?" Vaan blurted. There was the rasp of steel as he drew his sword.

Daina was growing accustomed to the bucking of the Keep. She peered around Penelo. Between them and _Galbana_, what seemed like all the yarhi they had confronted up to that point rushed to fill the space. They were silent. As if they were keeping vigil during a funeral.

"Come to say goodbye?" Penelo whispered. Two fat, hot tears slid down her cheeks.

In response, the gathered yarhi howled. On and on it went, a wolf's lament to the moon repeated through hundreds of thousands of throats. Beyond them, Tomaj led everyone off _Galbana_, their mouths hanging open. Larsa wore a rather calculating expression – however, he smiled when Sera excitedly pointed out something to him. She raised her arm and began waving madly, her face suffused with the sweetest smile. Next to the Lemurés airship, Nono and Cu Sith must have finally gotten the _Strahl_ repaired, for it hovered on eldritch blue glossair rings, waiting.

"The anima Feolthanos collected," Kytes said, thinking out loud. He'd been waving back at Sera but now lowered his staff. "They're free now, aren't they?"

Filo's eyes grew round as shields. "What's gonna happen to Lemurés? And the yarhi?"

"They will return to the way they were meant to be," Llyud answered, and again Daina was struck with the way his voice shaped the words, almost song-like. A few strains of an unfinished lullaby ran through her head, but she filed it away for later and let him finish. "And then the aegyl must choose how to shape their future."

"I'm afraid we've got to be off," Balthier said, free hand to his belted hips, eyes on the _Strahl_. Of them all, he seemed the least bothered by the continuing quakes; although Fran, in her tall heels, hadn't lost her balance yet, making Daina feel like the clumsiest woman in Ivalice.

Ashe blinked at him. "Oh?"

"I've learned it's best to accept one's place gracefully." Still holding her, gentleman-like, Balthier lightly jumped down the steps, which had begun to crumble. "Vaan, we'll be waiting for you on the _Strahl_."

Ashe allowed him to tow her away, gray eyes troubled.

Basch moved, helping the children along as Tomaj steadied Penelo – or maybe it was the other way around. "We will be needing transport back to Ivalice," Basch said to no one in particular.

"No problem," Vaan replied instantly, but caught on to the problem after everyone else did, and made a face in dismay.

"Are you so sure?" Fran asked over her shoulder.

"What about the _Galbana_?" Tomaj moaned at the same time. He hadn't always been so quick on the uptake, either.

Balthier lifted one ringed hand, waving back at them. "Isn't it time you returned her to her rightful owners?" he drawled. He seemed as unconcerned as if he were out on a promenade as the Keep finally lost integrity. Great blocks of masonry were crashing down at an alarming rate.

They all made a run for it then, dashing straight for the sea of yarhi. The beasts and aegyl parted for them, leaving a path open to the waiting _Strahl_. In spite of a bit of a bottleneck, they all managed to clamber aboard. Balthier, Fran, and Nono disappeared at once to take control of the ship, but the rest remained outside on the catwalks. Penelo was the last off the gangplank, and she turned back first.

"Look!" she cried.

The yarhi, their howls sounding more like song with each rumble from the disintegrating Keep, began to blow away like glitter in the wind, and with them, the Mist. It was a spectacular light show, colors strobing and flashing, dazzling them all.

"Is Llyud okay?" Kytes exclaimed suddenly, and nearly jumped out of his skin as Llyud put a hand on his shoulder. A very solid hand.

Llyud smiled gently. "The aegyl are no illusions," he said. "We do not vanish with the breaking of the dawn. But without the power of the auraliths, Lemurés will fall. We must find a new home among the clouds."

"I'm sorry," Vaan said sincerely. It wasn't quite the happy ending they'd all hoped for. He patted his sash; Daina wondered what Zalera was telling him.

"It's all right," Llyud said. Absently, he put a hand to his chest, over his heart. "Feolthanos has given us back all we need to start anew."

Spreading his wings and his arms as if to embrace them, he smiled one last time. "I owe it to you, my friends, to see that we do not squander this opportunity. The sky is broad, and the horizon wide. We will find our new home."

"Then I guess this is goodbye," Filo said from Daina's elbow. Her face broke, and she began to cry.

Penelo put an arm around her. "I know we should be happy, but . . ."

"You have your airships," Llyud said, raising his eyebrows, "and we our wings. There's no reason we should not meet again."

The Keep of Forgotten Time was no more than a memory, sparkling like the far-distant stars. Balthier flew the _Strahl_ back to Lemurés, where they saw Llyud had been right. The sky continent was falling apart, vegetation, rock, water, and buildings descending toward Ivalice. Like flocks of birds, aegyl took to the sky, singing a dirge for their lost home.

Ashe, sad yet regal, went inside, her head bowed, the weight of her kingdom on her slim shoulders. Larsa nodded at Basch and Daina before he joined her.

Daina stood in the circle of Basch's arms, his chin in her hair, and let the wind freeze the tears on her skin. She doubted a female face out on the catwalks was dry. Poor Kytes was unable to detach a sobbing Filo from his mage's robe; Tomaj ground his knuckles into the boy's head, one of those people who seemed to deal with sadness by laughing. Penelo stood with her head on Vaan's shoulder, and Sera put a hand to her midnight hair to keep it from whipping around her head, her back to them all. _Galbana, _its sky saloon and cargo holds empty, soared toward the falling islands as if summoned. Wordless, Llyud took to the air, his bright red hair and feathers a beacon for his people. He waved, once, and then flew away.

* * *

"This came for you this evening, My Lady," Sera said before withdrawing for the night. Efficiently draping a bundle of her mistress and master's clothes for the wash over one arm and setting down the tea tray – ginger infusion to settle an uneasy stomach, as well as a few plain biscuits – she pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. A fire stone glowed under the teapot on its stand, so that Daina might have fresh tea throughout the night. Beneath the tray, Daina's schoolwork lay where she'd carelessly (or perhaps in frustration) left it, a pen drooling ink onto the unfinished essay on current Archadian law and how it had evolved from the time before the autocracy. This, Sera primly righted.

"A letter?" Daina asked from the vanity. The dove barrette lay amid a scattering of armbands, its wings spread in flight. Already in her nightgown, she finished braiding her hair and swished over to her, a hand to the tiny swell of her belly.

"From Penelo." Blotting the last of the ink, Sera handed over the envelope, hugged her, and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Basch emerged from the bathroom, shirtless and smelling of aftershave. He scrubbed a towel through his hair and joined his wife near the curtained window, where the blue glow of taxicab glossair rings gave enough light to see. Smiling when he put his smooth cheek to hers, she tilted the letter so he could read over her shoulder.

Penelo wrote as sweetly as she spoke, every word straight from her gentle heart: . . . _The future can be a scary thing. Uncertainty always scares us. But we know that as long as there's a sky above our heads, there's hope. Whatever the future brings, all we really need is someone to face it with – together._

Closing her eyes, Daina turned her head so that she could hear the beating of Basch's heart, at peace for the moment.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello and konnichiwa! (Wow, I can't remember where I used to hear that, lol!)_

_How is everyone today? Here we are at the last chapter! *trumpets, fanfare, and a ticker-tape parade!* I am feeling exceptionally giddy. *sticks tongue out at the crap cold wet weather* I just can't believe I finished this. Finally. I took hold of that plotline in both hands and MADE it what I wanted! NEENER! hehehe_

_Oh, Basch. You had two such inappropriate moments during these last battles. Why no PDAs with Daina this time? Heehee! I was having entirely too much fun with them, sigh. I guess we'll just have to settle for a shirtless man in full, um, bloom._

_*cough*_

_By the way, Lightning Farron is possibly my most favorite FF lady ever. I wanted her to have a bit of a presence here. Did you catch it? :3_

_Anyhoo, the ride isn't quite over yet. I still have one more scene to upload tomorrow. Be on the lookout for it!_

_Sending all my love,_

_Anne_


	28. EPILOGUE: Never Alone

He was so _noisy_ when he ate.

That had surprised her at first. It wasn't like she had a lot of experience with newborns. Daina smiled, shifting the baby so that he was more secure on the pillow in her lap. Tiny fists struck at nothing, and his nonexistent eyebrows drew together in a determined scowl. He was hungry, and he didn't like being moved when his whole being was focused on eating. Smothering a giggle, she put her lips to his warm head. He let go long enough to cry twice in complaint, and then settled back down to the business at hand.

"I know," she whispered. "It's tough being two weeks old, isn't it?"

He didn't bother to respond except to add a grunt every time he swallowed.

Daina loved to watch her son. When he finally fell asleep, the tip of his pink tongue between rosebud lips and jaws moving with dreams of milk, she simply sat with him for a while. Like most new babies, he didn't look like much of anybody, no matter what the other ladies said. They competed for his attention, saying he had her nose or to coyly ask if Judge Magister Gabranth's chin had that dimple. Daina herself couldn't tell yet whether he would look like her or like his father or like something else altogether. He was himself, perfect and constantly changing.

She raised her head with a sigh. Would she ever not feel tired again? At least here in the nursery, she could take the time to rest. It was a place of peace. Flowers with cards of congratulation filled every available space with color and perfume. A stuffed yellow chocobo slightly bigger than the baby stood guard over his bassinet, waiting for its master's return. But for now, they had a party to attend.

Today was her son's naming day.

It was a Landisian custom. Daina stood carefully, the baby nestled against her chest. In Nabradia, parents chose their children's names in a game as old as time, making lists to argue over and sometimes relying on relatives or a lottery long before the baby's birth. Basch had asked otherwise. Daina had agreed.

Names meant so much.

She had almost made it to the door, stopping once to retrieve the fallen blanket (pink, a gentler red, the color of boys not yet men; had he been a girl, the blanket would have been blue), when Basch came to check on her.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his rough voice lower than usual out of respect for possibly sleeping babes. With the door open, Daina could hear the chattering of their guests. It sounded a bit like a flock of doves cooing, but the baby, tiny belly taut with milk, never stirred.

"Of course," she answered him, smiling reassuringly. The question wasn't entirely out of line. There'd been a stiff learning curve for all three of them the first few days. "Is the kiltias ready?"

"Aye." He took his place, slightly behind and to her left, to escort her back to the main room.

For her part, she forced a smile as the attention of the entire room zeroed in on her. She was the only woman in white, another custom, and Sera had chosen the dress with care. Its cap sleeves and empire waist, with the trailing bow tied at her back, made Daina feel like a young girl, especially since the skirts covered her to the toes and dragged along the carpet. A pattern of blue flowers and vines trailed up from the hem to her knees, and a filmy outer layer billowed around her as she walked. She hugged her son a little tighter. True, their guests were there for the baby, not for her. But it still made her uncomfortable, she who had been a knight-servant to the princess of Dalmasca – now Her Royal Majesty Queen Ashelia Dalmasca, who was present – and currently a student at the Ministry of Law and judge-elect for His Excellency Emperor Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, also present. With two such personages in their midst, her guests might have given Daina less attention, in her opinion.

Amusingly, it was Basch who was garnering the most attention once she and the baby passed.

Many of the attendees had possibly accepted the invitation purely to see Judge Magister Gabranth. Those who were Archadian-bred specifically, foreigners more generally, suffered from a peculiar blindness. Basch had said once, "Strip away the armor, there is still a person underneath." How many of them had truly thought this through? Judge magisters were the icons of the empire's might. Yet here was one, in the flesh. They'd decided it was time, Larsa and his guardian, to start changing the people's perception of the Ministry of Law. Basch moved through the crowd, golden head high amid the dark-haired Archadians, wearing a loose red shirt unbuttoned to the waist that showed off his warm skin tone, and comfortable, baggy trousers. No belt, soft, ratty shoes. The silver phoenix pendant hung from its chain around his neck, the only adornment he ever allowed, while his scar caused many a shocked expression on the ladies' fashionably pale faces. Daina overheard quite a few comments on his manly beauty, and of their suitableness as a couple (although this was sometimes more of a snide remark than a compliment). She wanted to giggle, thinking of their last argument, the one that had involved swords and almost ended with a beheading. She loved her husband, and did not care what jealous ladies thought.

She caught his eye and grinned. He might willingly wear his brother's armor every day. He'd even cut his hair to better manage it under the helm. But get him in one of the noble's form-fitting suits? They'd have a better chance of turning back the ocean with their bare hands.

The blue-robed kiltias spoke to him, and their gazes broke as he turned his close-shorn head. Daina immediately decided to let her son's hair grow as long as it wanted. She kissed the soft down, of which there was not yet enough to distinguish a shade other than "blond," but the wheat gold glints across his tiny scalp made her hopeful.

Mingling had separated her from Basch. She stopped to speak a word or two to people as they came up to her. Some were partaking of the refreshments, especially the petit fours with white and pink icing that were traditional for a naming ceremony. Everyone commented on how well the baby slept through the noise. Outwardly, she laughed and said he was just like his father; inwardly, she smiled in sad remembrance. Because once upon a time, that hadn't been true.

Around the edges of the party, Dalmascan and Archadian soldiers stood guard. Outside the apartment, she knew, patrols had been set. Lady Ashe was staying at Larsa's palace for a few days, but neither royal was going anywhere without a guard. Such were the realities of their times. Daina wondered if any of the soldiers working together today were friends from the years of Rabanastre's occupation. Would they go out for a pint once their shifts ended? It was a nice thought.

Some of their guests could be called her friends. Like Lady Cassady and her two daughters – thoughtful, intelligent girls, both a little older than Daina. Lady Cassady had been such a help the last few weeks. Or the level-headed young man Daina had met at the theatre who hoped, like her, to become a judge. Basch said there was great potential in him. To Daina's absolute delight, Vaan and Penelo had managed to come, but sadly Balthier and Fran were absent. Balthier's gift of the crystalline mobile, its pieces floating and turning without wires, had made Daina cry when she opened the package. Whether out of happiness or sadness, she wasn't sure, but she appreciated the gesture.

"Daina," Ashe greeted. She wore a gorgeous gown in pink and blue and gold, layered but revealing, tailored for Dalmasca's desert heat. Her father's crown graced her fair hair. "I trust you are well?"

"Very, Majesty. Thank you for coming." She returned Ashe's hug, the baby blowing spit bubbles in his sleep between them.

"He is beautiful," Ashe said softly, trailing her fingers along his chubby arm. Daina eyed her, and hoped that someday soon, Ashe might become someone's mother. The two women stood together like that for a minute or so, and then Ashe gave way to the next person in line.

Daina wasn't the only one who liked to watch the baby. If she showed the slightest inclination to put him down, Sera was there in a flash to hold him. But not even Sera could claim him all of the time. She had one unexpected rival. Larsa, the youngest of four, seemed fascinated by the baby, and frequently snuck out of his palace to visit, which had caused quite a commotion the other day when he missed a meeting of the Senate. He'd been scolded by both Sera and Daina, and had pouted for a whole day afterward, according to Basch.

For this reason, Daina had asked the kiltias to perform an Archadian custom alongside the baby's naming. It was only fitting. His parents may have been from different countries, with different backgrounds, but he would be raised as an Archadian. Landis and Nabradia were gone, and would only live as long as Basch and Daina did. The baby had his own future to create.

An excited buzz rose in the room as the kiltias called for order. Someone thoughtfully brought a high-backed chair for Daina and she sat near the front windows, arranging baby, blanket, and skirts in her lap, Basch at her shoulder. Meek and pink-faced, Sera approached, her blue eyes surprised at the summons. Daina smiled at her as Lord Chamberlain brought Larsa up as well, arranging the two teens opposite the new parents.

"In the name of the father, and in the presence of these holy relics," the kiltias said reverently, his hands outstretched as if to embrace the child and the cup, dagger, and gem on the cloth-draped side table being used as an altar, beginning the naming ceremony with hushed solemnity. His speech wasn't long, and Daina rocked her sleeping son through most of it. It wasn't until he said, "From this day hence, you shall be known as –" that she looked up.

Basch had asked her to choose the baby's name the night before. When she'd asked why, he'd simply said she had earned the right. She liked that idea. Perhaps she wasn't as original as most mothers, and unusually shy about sharing her thoughts, but she'd really only had one name in mind since the first moment she saw her son's tiny, squished-up face and heard his breathless cries. When she finally told him, Basch had been unable to voice his thanks and had simply held her, overcome with emotion.

All gentleness, the kiltias picked up the parchment and read, "Noah Praeities fon Ronsenburg."

A rustle swept the room like a wildfire before he finished speaking and was as quickly smothered.

Names had so much meaning. This one was too big for a baby two weeks old, but Daina hoped that he would one day grow to do it honor. She had no doubt that before long, her fellow nobles would ferret out at least part of the meaning – why, for instance, the baby had a different last name than his mother. And that, too, was all right. They could not afford to dwell in the past, but neither could they lay it entirely aside. She had no wish to hide from him who his father had been.

The kiltias didn't give the guests any time in which to get restless. He moved briskly on to the second part of the ceremony, which involved appointing godparents. A godparent, in Archadia, was a person unrelated to the baby who vowed to raise him should something happen to his true parents. And the people Basch and Daina had chosen to do this were Larsa and Sera.

This time, the guests couldn't keep quiet. A servant-girl and the emperor, godparents to a judge magister's son? While the child would never be considered as an heir to Larsa, for that was not how the custom or the law worked, it was still unheard-of. Once again, Daina did not care. These were her friends, and she knew they would love her son if the unthinkable happened and she could not.

At fourteen, Larsa was almost as tall as Daina and, as was the unfortunate fate of teenaged boys everywhere, skinny as a rail. He wore the empire's heavy crown well, the gold and gems radiant against his sleek black hair. He accepted his new duty with consummate grace and swore his vow over the gem. Sera's crimson-faced acceptance was almost inaudible, but she lifted the cup and drank after Larsa with a fairly steady hand.

Still smiling, Daina waited for the kiltias to finish ("May the blessings of the great father descend upon you, Noah Praeities fon Ronsenburg," he said, his large palm engulfing the baby's head. "Faram."), sure that no one could hear him. Then, cradling her son, she began to sing a lullaby.

It was not Nabradian. She'd made it up herself. It had begun after that last battle at the Keep, a few simple words and a lilting melody that kept repeating in her head, and she'd finished it during the long, sleepless nights of her pregnancy. Now, she sang of love and flying dreams, like the one she'd once had of an eagle and a dove. Slowly, the room quieted, until only her voice could be heard, achingly sweet. When she finished, a flurry of lace-edged handkerchiefs appeared.

Basch leaned down. "A beauty that can drive a man to tears," he murmured.

She smiled, turning her head so that the room couldn't see her lips move. "Or to war?"

"No," he said, and kissed her hair. "Not any longer. I have pledged my heart to peace. You have my love and my life, Lady."

"And you have mine," she whispered. "Always."

In his mother's arms, Noah opened his eyes.

* * *

_**A/N:** And so, we have finally reached the end. I chose to name this final chapter "Epilogue" because that's really what it is. Daina's story is complete, and there will be no more that feature her. I swear, I meant for this epilogue to be as short as the end chapter of ASftP, but it just kept getting longer . . . and longer . . . and LONGER each time I thought of something new I wanted to say! LOL! I guess it was just too hard for me to say goodbye._

_And this is my final goodbye. To you, my reviewers from two years ago, I still miss you. I hope all of you are well, and I can't, can't, CAN'T thank you enough for all of your early encouragement and thoughts on this sequel. You are forever in my heart: **Darwin**, **ElTangoDeRoxanne**, **Apollo06**, **FinalAnimalMoonE**, **Black** **Claided** **Cat**, **Quiddities**, **anonymoush**, **Persephone** **Falling**, and **Nameless-Sinner**._

_I have some acknowledgements to make. I don't know if I wrote this in ASftP, but the hidden "theme song" for that story was "One" by Metallica. For FaMP, it is "Flying Dreams" by Kenny Loggins. I had that in mind right from the start, and it shows up here and there throughout the story. It is, in fact, the lullaby that Daina sings to Noah._

_Next, I could never in a million years have pulled this off without the wonderful script provided by Cremdogz over on GameFAQ. Dude, whoever you are, you are AMAZING._

_Of course, there are some nods to other games, namely FFVII and FFXIII. I also used the names of the writers of the FFXII game manual as extra characters where I could. Lastly, although I'm sure everyone already knows this, all of the chapter titles are taken from the sidequest hunt and missions from both games. I hope you, my fellow fans, enjoyed these tributes!_

_Thank you, my Readers, for taking the time to read my stories. I do hope you will leave a review, even if it is finished. Stories are living things, ever-changing, and I would love to hear your thoughts._

_Until next time,_

_Anne_

* * *

**_A/N #2: _**_I have in mind a companion story to ASftP and FaMP, which would take place when my Noah is all grown up. It would be drama/romance, the same as these. I have some plot points and characters already in the works (it's kind of impossible to shut off the brain while writing, isn't it?). My problem is that I stink at "bigger picture" plots. I don't have any idea what Noah's adventure would be._

_So I have a request._

_Is there anyone out there willing to work with me to create a plotline based in Ivalice about twenty years after the end of Revenant Wings? I'm pretty comfortable with the world itself, and creating characters is what I love and where I excel. What I need is the BIG PICTURE - what is the overall adventure my characters will explore, what problem facing the world will they help to solve?_

_If you have any ideas or are willing to participate in such a project, PM me. You will of course receive full credit (I'm not about show-stealing, I'm just inadequate to this task and I'm not afraid to admit it). I am looking forward to working on a fully original plot!_

* * *

**_A/N #3: _**_For anyone interested, I've just begun a new FF based in the ThunderCats 2011 universe, because I was really liking that show and am super sad it's on hiatus. If you care to join me there, it will be titled "Cat's Cradle."_

_Thank you, and goodbye!_

_All My Love,_

_Anne_


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